intljeCitpofillftngork 

THE  LIBRARIES 


^i- 


MY  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


REV.     W.     J.     COTTER 

AT    AGE    OF     EIGHTY-FIVE 


M 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


By  WILLIAM  JASPER  COTTER,  A.M. 

Who  has  lived  nearly  a  quarter  century  beyond  the 
allotted  threescore  years  and  ten  and  has 
been  a  Methodist  preacher  in  Geor- 
gia for  seventy-three  years 


Q^:^^ 


Edited  by 
CHARLES  O.  JONES,  D.D. 


Nastivfiii?,  Tenn. 

Dallas,  Tex.;  Richmond,  Va. 

Publishing  House  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South 

Smith  &  Lamar,  Agents 

1917 


9  3<?.6 


f  b-f6<f/f 


PREFACE 

On  coming  into  this  world  and  becoming  acquainted  with 
it  I  found  things  too  numerous  to  mention  prepared  for  my 
comfort  by  those  who  had  gone  before.  It  is  my  single  aim  to 
do  something,  if  possible,  for  the  good  of  those  who  may  come 
after  me.  Hence  I  write  this  book,  which  I  have  finished 
June  1 6,  191 7,  at  the  age  of  ninety-three  years  and  seven 
months. 

In  grateful  remembrance  I  dedicate  it  to  James  Gouedy  and 
his  wife,  born  Halliburton,  for  their  kindness  to  the  lone  girl 
and  myself  after  she  became  my  wife. 

I  also  tender  my  heartfelt  thanks  to  Charles  O.  Jones,  D.D., 
for  whose  generous  assistance  in  preparing  this  volume  of  per- 
sonal reminiscences  I  am  greatly  indebted. 

William  Jasper  Cotter. 
5 


INTRODUCTION 

Those  who  do  not  live  in  historic  times  are  recompensed  by 
knowing,  hearing,  or  reading  those  who  were  actors  in  pioneer 
days.  When  we  read  of  the  Cherokees  in  North  Georgia  and 
of  their  removal  by  the  Federal  government  to  the  distant 
West,  we  are  in  a  sort  of  historical  haze,  where  it  is  easy  to 
confuse  that  tragic  event  with  other  incidents  of  a  remoter 
past.  Indeed,  memory  must  take  an  aeroplane  flight  to  visual- 
ize occurrences  that  stirred  Georgia  and  other  parts  of  the 
Union  as  far  back  as  1835,  more  than  fourscore  years  ago. 

Yet  when  the  Cherokees  migrated,  the  author  of  this  auto- 
biography was  a  boy  in  his  teens.  He  was  alert  and  open-eyed 
to  the  quick-moving  scenes  of  the  human  drama  whose  actors 
were  hardy  pioneers,  soldiers  of  State  and  nation,  and  the  red 
men  unwilling  to  leave  the  fertile  and  beautiful  territory  where 
their  forefathers  had  hunted  the  deer  in  primeval  forests  and 
speared  the  trout  in  limpid  mountain  streams. 

The  removal  of  these  Indians,  the  most  intelligent  of  all  our 
aboriginal  inhabitants,  has  caused  a  tremendous  amount  of 
historical  and  critical  writing.  By  many  authors  Georgia  has 
been  harshly  censured  for  the  treatment  of  the  Cherokees  and 
the  violence  that  in  some  cases  was  inflicted  upon  the  defense- 
less Indians.  The  author  of  this  book  was  a  witness,  and  he 
writes  out  of  his  own  experience  and  observation.  He  gives 
us  first-hand  information.  He  defends  and  acquits  Georgia 
of  violence  and  cruelty  to  the  Indians.  The  chapters  concern- 
ing this  are  the  longest  in  the  book,  but  will  repay  close  read- 
ing, and  with  their  documentary  evidence  should  convince  all 
except  those  blinded  by  prejudice. 

Since  the  author  was  born  all  great  modern  improvements, 

7 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


from  the  railroad  to  the  flying  machine,  have  been  developed ; 
the  State  has  grown  into  a  populous  and  prosperous  common- 
wealth; the  States  of  the  Union  have  been  welded  into  a 
mighty  nation;  and  the  Church  of  which  the  author  has  been 
an  honored  and  loved  minister  for  over  seventy-two  years  has 
become  immeasurably  strong  in  numbers,  resources,  and  spir- 
itual power. 

These  experiences  of  almost  a  century  have  been  clearly  and 
faithfully  depicted  in  the  following  pages.  They  have  been 
written  primarily  for  the  descendants  of  the  men  and  women 
mentioned  in  these  pages,  and  the  author  has  been  discursive 
and  not  crisp  and  cold,  as  in  a  scientific  or  philosophical  trea- 
tise. They  are  interesting  reading  and,  because  of  the  method, 
have  needed  only  the  slightest  touch  of  an  editorial  hand. 
They  will  be  a  mine  of  information  to  future  writers  of  for- 
mal history. 

As  we  read  these  reminiscences  of  the  Nestor  of  Georgia 
Methodism  let  us  murmur  a  song  of  gratitude  that  our  fore- 
fathers, by  the  divine  blessing,  developed  for  us  this  goodly 
heritage,  resolve  to  embrace  the  glorious  opportunities  opened 
to  us  because  of  their  labors,  and  breathe  a  gentle  prayer  that 
the  author  may  complete  his  full  century  of  years  and  then  go 
to  rejoin  his  Rachel,  whose  loveliness  and  love  he  has  em- 
balmed in  this  interesting  book.  Charles  O.  Jones. 

Trinity  Church,  Atlanta,  Georgia,  July  4,  1917. 

8 


CONTENTS 


PART  ONE 
Boyhood  Days  and  the  Georgia  Cherokees 

ClIAPTBR  P**^^ 

I.  My  Ancestors  and  Moving  from  Home I3 

II.  My  Boyhood  Days  with  the  Indians,  1832-38 i7 

III.  Years  of  Labor  and  Trial 23 

IV.  Some  Indian  Traits  and  Customs 29 

V.  Early  Politics  and  Preaching 35 

VI.  Preparations  for  the  Removal  of  the  Cherokees 41 

VII.  The  Treaty  with  the  Cherokees  in  1802 5i 

VIII.  Boudinot,  Ross,  Vann,  Howard  Payne,  and  the  Old  Federal  Road.  65 

PART  TWO 

Conversion,  Marriage,  and  Beginnings  of  Ministry 

I.  Conversion  and  Call  to  Preach 81 

II.  Admission  on  Trial,  1844,  and  Dahlonega,  1845 87 

III.  My  Precious  Wife 9i 

IV.  Going  to  Our  New  Charge,  Blairsville  Mission,  1846 97 

V.  Summerville,  Marietta,  and  Indian  Generosity,  1847-48 104 

VI.  Clarksville  Circuit,  1849— Conversion  of  My  Father m 

VII.  Canton  and  Gainesville  Circuits,  1850-51 ^^^ 

PART  THREE 

Pastoral  Service  (Continued)  and  War  Times 

I.  Watkinsville  and  Carnesville  Circuits,  1852-54 125 

II.  Warrenton  and  a  Visit  Home,  1855-56 130 

III.  Waynesboro  and  Sandersville,  1857-60 136 

IV.  Culloden,  Greensboro,  and  Forsyth,  1861-65 I45 

V.  The  Battle  of  Chickamauga 152 

VI.  Fort  Valley,  Whitesville,  and  Grantville,  1866-69 I55 

VII.  Troup  Circuit  and  LaGrange  College,  1870-73 161 

9 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


PART  FOUR 

Last  Appointmexts,  Superannuation,  and  Peaceful  Waiting 
Chapter  Pag2 

I.  Grantville,  Elberton,  and  Other  Circuits.  1874-82 167 

II.  Summerville,  Senoia,  Troup,  Hampton,  and  Turin.  1883-94 175 

III.  Atlanta  and  Superannuation,  1895-97 178 

IV.  The  Wife  and  Mother  in  the  Home 180 

V.  Newnan  and  Coweta  County 183 

VI.  Ordinations  and  Appointments 188 

10 


PART  ONE 

BOYHOOD  DAYS  AND  THE  GEORGIA  CHEROKEES 


CHAPTER  I 

My  Ancestors  and  Moving  from  Home 

TV /TY  grandfather,  William  Cotter,  was  born  in  County 
Down,  Ireland.  When  a  young  man  he  came  to  Vir- 
ginia and  there  married  Miss  Catherine  Vance.  They  settled 
in  Union  District,  South  Carolina,  where,  on  November  28, 
1789,  my  father,  John  Vance  Cotter,  was  born.  He  was 
brought  up  on  a  farm,  with  the  school  advantages  of  that  day. 
His  family  was  Presbyterian,  and  its  members  gathered  around 
the  family  altar  in  daily  prayer.  Father  was  a  soldier  in  the 
War  of  18 12  and  was  stationed  at  Charleston.  When  peace 
was  declared,  he  came  to  Georgia  and  traded  on  the  borders 
with  the  Cherokee  Indians. 

My  mother  was  Miss  Mary  Ann  Nail,  born  in  Chatham 
County,  North  Carolina,  June  12,  1796,  and  was  reared  in 
old  Pendleton,  South  Carolina.  My  father  and  mother  were 
married  December  19,  18 19.  To  them  were  born  six  children, 
three  boys  and  three  girls.  My  sister  Emeline  E.  was  the 
oldest  and  in  all  respects  a  noble  woman.  She  was  an  intimate 
friend  of  Miss  Joanna  Troutman,  who  designed  the  Lone  Star 
flag  of  Texas.  My  sister  never  married,  and  after  our  parents 
grew  old  she  became  the  head  of  the  household.  She  died  in 
1872  in  Arkansas  while  on  a  visit  with  our  other  sisters. 

I  was  the  second  child  and  was  born  in  Hall  County,  at 
Cotter's  Store,  November  16,  1823.  I  was  named  William 
Jasper,  evidently  after  Sergeant  Jasper,  the  Revolutionary 
hero  who  replaced  the  American  flag  on  Fort  Moultrie  after  it 
had  been  shot  down  June  28,  1776,  and  was  mortally  wounded 
in  trying  to  place  the  colors  on  Spring  Hill  redoubt  at  Savan- 

13 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


nah  October  7,  1 779.  My  brother  Robert,  next  to  me  in  age, 
died  a  member  of  the  Georgia  Conference,  leaving  a  wife,  born 
Caroline  McRae,  and  three  children.  My  youngest  brother,  J. 
C.  K.,  married  Miss  Malinda  Green,  one  of  the  best  of  women. 
Much  of  his  time  he  has  taught  country  schools  and  still  sur- 
vives at  the  age  of  eighty-nine.  My  sister  Louisa  was  a  most 
amiable  character.  She  married  Thomas  Smith,  son  of  a  local 
preacher,  and  bore  him  four  children,  surviving  him  many 
years.  She  died  in  1888  at  the  age  of  fifty-seven.  Martha, 
the  yotmgest,  was  born  in  1834,  married  a  Mr.  Canterbury, 
and  still  lives  at  Mountain  Home,  Arkansas.  We  were  a  har- 
monious family  to  the  end  of  the  days. 

My  parents  settled  in  Hall  County,  Georgia,  at  a  place 
known  for  years  as  Cotter's  Store,  now  Gillsville.  Pioneers 
had  located  thirty  years  before  in  this  eastern  part  of  the  coun- 
ty, on  a  section  of  fine  farming  land  between  the  Oconee  and 
Grove  Rivers.  I  may  mention  some  of  our  early  neighbors: 
The  Garrisons,  Caseys,  Terrells,  Bufifingtons,  Rileys,  Bowens, 
Cowans,  Peepleses,  and  others  equally  worthy.  The  commu- 
nity had  good  schools  and  a  high  standard  of  morals.  The 
Baptist  church  was  at  Timber  Ridge,  where  they  had  large  As- 
sociations. The  Methodist  meetings  were  held  at  Wesley 
Chapel,  Miller's  Meetinghouse,  and  old  Dry  Pond  Camp 
Ground. 

The  larger  portion  of  the  county  was  west  of  the  Oconee. 
The  county  had  been  organized  in  18 18.  The  first  members 
of  the  County  Court  were:  Jacob  Eberhart,  John  Bates,  John 
V.  Cotter  (my  father),  Nehemiah  Garrison,  and  William 
Cobb.  The  first  thing  for  the  court  to  do  was  to  select  a  site 
for  the  county  seat.  The  Big  Spring  and  the  Lime  Kiln  were 
nominated.     My  father  suggested  the  place  where  the  city  of 

14 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


Gainesville  now  stands,  then  an  unbroken  forest.  He  also 
suggested  the  name  for  the  new  city  that  was  to  be  in  honor 
of  Gen.  Edmond  Pendleton  Gaines,  under  whom  he  had  served 
during  the  war.  The  surveyor  who  laid  off  the  site  was  a 
great-uncle  of  the  late  Governor  Terrell.  The  deed  to  the  lot 
bore  the  names  of  the  five  judges  already  mentioned. 

Our  old  home  originally  called  for  eight  hundred  and  eight 
acres  of  land,  but  had  been  divided  into  three  parts,  called  the 
Garrison,  Cotter,  and  Peeples  places.  It  was  a  lovely  country, 
shaded  with  great  trees  and  brightened  with  pinks  and  roses. 
We  had  a  cold  and  living  well  of  water  and  a  garden  fertile 
with  the  vegetables  of  that  time.  In  the  spring  the  sunshine 
was  made  more  beautiful  by  the  glittering  wings  of  butter- 
flies, and  bird  choristers  made  the  trees  vocal  with  their  songs 
of  praise.  On  Sunday  mornings  mother  would  say:  "Go 
down  to  the  washing  place  and  gather  some  flowers."  Swiftly 
we  gathered  honeysuckle  and  sweet  shrub.  As  we  returned 
mother  would  say:  "You  didn't  stay  long,  and  you  kept  your 
clothes  so  nice.  Now  I  will  read  to  you."  We  gathered  about 
her  knees,  and  she  read  the  Bible  and  told  us  that  God  made  all 
things  and  that  Jesus  Christ  was  our  only  Saviour.  I  have 
never  heard  any  one  else  speak  that  precious  name  exactly  with 
the  sweetness  and  unction  that  she  did.  When  about  eight 
years  old,  I  went  with  her  to  church  on  a  beautiful  Sabbath 
morning.  As  we  came  home  she  said:  'T  don't  want  to  hear 
that  man  again,  for  he  said  that  our  Saviour  is  not  God." 
She  was  a  constant  Bible  reader  and  was  well  informed  as  to 
its  doctrines. 

The  time  came  for  us  to  leave  our  beautiful  home.  We  dis- 
posed of  most  of  our  live  stock,  prepared  provisions  for  the 
journey,  loaded  the  wagons,  and  started  on  April  3,    1832. 

15 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


Every  place  and  object  we  passed  was  new.  On  the  eleventh 
day  we  stopped  at  the  James  Monroe  place,  on  the  old  Federal 
Road,  about  two  miles  north  of  what  was  then  known  as  the 
Harlen  place,  now  the  Carter  place.  We  were  in  the  midst  of 
the  Cherokee  Nation. 

The  third  Sunday  after  we  had  been  in  our  new  home  the 
Rev.  Mr,  McDowell  preached  for  us.  He  was  then  surveying 
that  district.  He  was  a  good  man,  and  all  the  people  I  have 
known  of  that  name  honored  it.  I  cannot  tell  how  long  it  was 
before  we  heard  another  sermon.  The  country  was  a  wilder- 
ness, and  the  Indians  were  about  us. 

i6 


CHAPTER  II 

My  Boyhood  Days  with  the  Indians,  1832-38 

TT  THY  did  we  go  there?  Many  answers  might  be  given  to 
the  question.  It  would  be  hard  to  make  the  people  of 
the  present  time  understand  the  situation  then.  People  had 
the  spirit  of  adventure,  the  new  country  had  the  charms  of  at- 
traction, and  it  was  confidently  believed  that  the  Indians  would 
all  be  gone  in  a  year,  at  least ;  but  they  did  not  go  till  six  years. 
After  the  War  of  1812  my  father  drifted  to  Georgia  and 
embarked  in  trading  with  the  Indians  with  some  success.  He 
and  his  partner  were  neighbor  boys,  different  in  almost  every 
respect,  except  David  and  Jonathan  were  not  better  friends. 
My  father  had  great  powers  of  endurance  and  complete 
control  of  his  appetites.  I  never  saw  him  the  least  intoxi- 
cated. He  could  sleep  anywhere  and  eat  almost  anything. 
Smith  was  the  opposite,  dainty  in  his  eating  and  particular 
about  his  sleeping.  At  one  time  the  fare  was  too  bad  for 
him.     There  was  a  place  where  the  prospect  was  better.     He 

said:   "Cotter,  things  look  better  at  .     Let  us  call  for 

a  nice  piece  of  meat  and  cabbage  and  a  chicken.  I  intend  to 
watch  how  it  is  prepared."  The  meat  and  cabbage  were  nicely 
washed  and  put  into  the  dinner  pot;  and  so  was  the  chicken 
dressed,  and  all  started  off  cooking  nicely.  He  took  his 
partner  out  to  tell  him  how  well  everything  was  going  on 
and  said  he  could  hardly  wait  for  it  to  get  done.  Back  he 
went ;  and  the  two  women  with  a  stick  made  hair  and  dust  fly 
from  the  dog's  back,  saying,  "Skeener!"  (their  word  for  "Get 
out!")  and  then  stirred  the  cabbage  with  the  stick.  It  nearly 
killed  Smith.  Again  he  said  to  his  friend:  "Did  you  see  that 
2  17 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


dirty  thing  hit  the  dog  and  stir  the  cabbage?  I  couldn't  eat  a 
mouthful."  He  declined  meat  and  cabbage,  but  did  his  duty 
to  the  chicken.  Though  he  was  doing  well,  there  was  one  back 
at  home  in  his  mind  and  heart.  She  afterwards  became  his 
life  partner.  The  time  came  when  Smith  and  my  father  sep- 
arated. They  shed  tears  then  and  remained  dear  friends  as 
long  as  they  lived,  and  a  hundred  miles  was  a  short  distance 
to  go  to  visit  each  other.  Smith  settled  in  Middle  Tennessee, 
was  a  captain  in  the  war  of  Texas  in  1836  and,  I  think,  was 
a  prisoner  in  a  dungeon  in  the  City  of  Mexico  when  the  war 
ended.  The  authorities  at  Washington  sent  Gen.  VVaddie 
Thompson,  of  South  Carolina,  with  papers  of  authority  to 
have  the  prisoners  liberated.  I  heard  him  say  that  before  go- 
ing to  a  hotel  or  looking  after  baggage  he  went  at  once  and 
saw  the  iron  bolts  drawn  and  the  doors  opened  and  grasped 
the  hands  of  his  dear  countrymen,  saying  to  them:  ''I  have 
passports  for  you  to  go  home  with  me."  He  said  it  was  the 
gladdest  hour  of  his  life,  and  it  made  every  one  glad  to  hear 
him  tell  it.     I  may  allude  to  Captain  Smith  again. 

Cotter  continued  and  extended  the  business.  At  that  time 
there  was  a  great  trade  center  at  Grayson  Bend,  on  the  Chatta- 
hoochee River,  fifteen  miles  above  LaGrange.  From  the 
mouth  of  Peachtree  Creek,  near  where  the  city  of  Atlanta  is, 
he  shipped  in  large  canoes  a  cargo  of  goods.  The  canoes  were 
worked  by  strong  negroes  and  Indians.  The  river  was  at 
flood  tide,  out  of  banks,  which  were  bordered  with  cane- 
brakes,  a  home  for  wild  beasts.  Great  gangs  of  wild  turkeys 
flew  over  their  heads,  filling  the  air  with  the  whir  of  their 
wings.  The  dangerous  voyage  was  safely  made,  but  a  great 
calamity  came  at  the  last  moment.  In  turning  the  canoes  in 
the  bend  of  the  river  to  land,  the  whole  cargo  capsized,  and 

18 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


everything  was  lost.  The  crew  escaped  safely  and,  in  the  best 
way  they  could,  made  their  way  back  home,  going  pretty  much 
over  what  is  now  the  line  of  the  West  Point  Railroad. 

Grayson's  Bend  had  its  name  from  Sam  Grayson,  the  most 
widely  known  man  in  all  that  part  of  the  country  up  and  down 
the  Chattahoochee  and  then  to  the  white  settlements  in  the  east  • 
em  part  of  the  State.  Grayson's  trails  led  out  in  every  direc- 
tion and  are  still  spoken  of  by  the  old  people  of  Troup  and  oth- 
er counties.  I  don't  know  that  Sam  Grayson  had  Indian  blood 
in  him.  I  think  not.  But  he  had  great  influence  over  them  and 
over  the  whites  also.  He  was  a  man  of  honor,  most  hospitable, 
and  kept  an  open  and  orderly  house.'  My  father  had  great  re- 
spect for  Sam  Grayson.  After  the  country  was  settled,  the 
place  was  known  as  the  Colonel  Townes  place,  named  for  the 
father  of  George  W.  B.  Townes,  Georgia's  Chesterfieldian 
Governor. 

I  saw  that  interesting  part  of  the  State  when  all  was  new — 
waters  in  the  creeks  and  rivers  as  clear  as  crystal;  rich  val- 
leys, hills,  and  mountains  covered  with  a  thick  forest ;  a  land 
of  beautiful  flowers — white,  pink,  yellow,  and  red  honey- 
suckles, redwood  and  dogwood  blossoms,  wild  roses,  and  oth- 
ers. The  ground  was  covered  with  violets,  sweet  williams,  and 
other  beauties.  There  was  plenty  of  wild  game — deer,  tur- 
key, and  other  varieties.  When  first  seen,  all  was  in  lovely, 
beautiful  spring,  and  I  was  nine  years  old. 

Many  and  varied  were  the  troubles  encountered  with  the 
wild  animals,  bears,  panthers,  and  wolves,  and  the  smaller  ones, 
wildcats,  coons,  and  foxes.  I  never  saw  a  bear  in  the  woods ; 
but  they  were  numerous,  and  many  were  killed.  I  saw  a 
panther  three  hundred  yards  from  the  house.  The  cattle  in  the 
lane  scented  it  and  were  excited.    Panthers  killed  colts,  spring- 

19 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


ing  from  the  limb  of  a  tree.  I  have  often  seen  the  prints  of 
their  claws  on  a  colt's  back  and  sometimes  on  grown  horses. 
Wolves  howled  in  hearing  on  the  mountain,  but  never  did 
much  mischief.  The  smaller  animals  gave  the  trouble.  Stand- 
ing in  the  yard,  we  could  hear  the  foxes  barking;  and  coons 
were  nearly  as  bad  as  hogs  in  destroying  corn.  They  began 
on  it  before  it  was  in  roasting  ear.  The  Indians  had  no  dogs, 
but  small  curs,  which  were  of  little  account.  There  were  no 
hounds.  Colonel  Carter's  overseer  brought  two  from  Mil- 
ledgeville,  and  Mr.  Black  got  some  from  Buncombe,  North 
Carolina.  We  soon  trained  them  to  hunt  together ;  and  in  the 
winter  and  spring  we  caught  twenty-seven  foxes,  four  wild- 
cats, and  quite  a  number  of  coons.  It  was  the  gray  fox,  and 
usually  the  chase  was  fun.  If  started  by  eight  o'clock,  it  was 
caught  by  twelve;  if  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  it  was 
caught  a  little  after  sunup.  We  never  saw  a  red  fox  there. 
Once  in  a  while  the  dogs  were  out  all  night,  and  we  did  not 
know  what  they  were  after.  When  they  caught  a  fox  they 
would  lie  down  around  it  for  several  hours,  then  one  after 
another  would  leave.  Old  Buncombe  was  the  last  to  go  in  the 
afternoon.  Walking  around  the  fox,  he  would  howl  as  loud 
as  he  could  and  start  for  home  with  a  look  of  disappointment. 
He  was  a  large,  leopard-colored  dog  and  was  the  leader  of  the 
pack.  While  the  others  stayed,  he  was  always  nearest  the  dead 
fox.  Only  hunters  know  the  meaning  of  "as  cunning  as  a 
fox,"  when,  far  ahead  of  the  dogs,  he  runs  back  on  logs,  runs 
a  little  way  up  trees  and  from  log  to  log,  then  jumps  as  far  as 
he  can  and  often  eludes  his  pursuers.  The  chase  was  hard  on 
horses.  Wildcats  can  run  up  a  tree  and  are  usually  shot. 
Coon-hunting  involves  hard  work  as  well  as  lots  of  fun.  Late 
one  fall,  while  gathering  corn  about  dark,  a  company  of  boys 

20 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


came  for  a  coon  hunt ;  and,  grabbing  a  handful  of  bread  and 
meat,  I  went  with  them.  Early  in  the  night  we  treed  a 
coon  up  one  of  the  largest  poplars  on  the  creek.  It  would 
never  do  to  give  up.  The  tree  had  to  come  down.  We  sent 
home  for  help.  White  boys  and  negroes  came  with  axes  and 
supper.  It  was  about  daylight  when  the  tree  fell.  We  held 
the  dogs,  that  they  might  not  be  killed  by  the  tree.  The  coon 
escaped,  crossed  the  creek,  and  ran  up  a  small  tree.  We  cut 
it  down  in  twenty  minutes  and  got  the  coon.  It  was  sunup 
then.  An  old  coon  can  easily  whip  a  young  dog  and  is  a  full 
match  for  an  old  dog. 

On  that  spot  I  had  a  most  fearful  encounter  with  a  large 
rattlesnake,  alone  with  a  good  dog  that  killed  nearly  every 
snake  that  he  found.  He  seized  them  with  his  teeth  and  shook 
them  to  death  in  a  little  time.  It  was  a  sand  bar  barren  of 
weeds.  The  rattler  was  coiled  ready  to  strike.  I  saw  his 
eyes  and  realized  the  expression,  "as  mad  as  a  rattlesnake." 
Had  he  not  been  in  his  coil,  the  dog  would  have  seized  him, 
but  he  knew  the  snake  could  strike  first  and  so  held  off.  It 
would  never  do  for  a  boy  to  let  such  a  snake  live,  and  with  a 
ten-foot  fence  rail  the  blow  was  struck  that  turned  the  tide  of 
battle. 

That  year's  hunting  thinned  out  the  wildcats,  coons,  foxes, 
minks,  skunks,  opossums,  and  other  varmints  that  troubled  us. 
A  traveler  told  us  how  to  catch  wild  turkeys.  Next  day  we 
followed  instructions.  With  an  ax  and  a  hoe  we  cut  down 
some  little  pines,  dug  a  trench,  and  made  a  pen  so  that  a  tur- 
key would  come  up  in  the  middle  of  the  pen  and  have  to  look 
down  in  order  to  get  out.  This  the  frightened  bird  would  not 
do,  but  would  hold  his  head  high.  I  baited  the  trench  with 
corn  and  soon  caught  two  large  turkeys  and  proudly  carried 

21 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


them  home.  Squirrels  and  opossums  were  in  great  abundance. 
Great  fat  opossums  were  dressed,  put  on  the  roof  of  the 
smokehouse  during  a  frosty  night,  and  the  next  day  cooked 
with  potatoes,  making  a  dish  fit  for  a  king  or  an  American 
sovereign. 

22 


CHAPTER  III 
Years  of  Labor  and  Trial 

IVyTR.  WILLIAM  MAY  was  living  at  the  Monroe  place. 
He  was  a  nice  old  gentleman  of  seventy  years,  and  his 
wife  was  about  the  same  age.  He  owned  negroes  and  was 
well  off.  He  had  brought  up  a  large  family,  equally  divided 
in  sons  and  daughters,  all  well  educated.  One  daughter  mar- 
ried George  Harlan,  a  rich  half  Indian.  I  heard  Harlan  say 
that  if  Mr.  May  had  said  "No"  when  he  asked  for  Ann  he 
would  have  knocked  him  into  the  Chattahoochee.  They  were 
on  the  bank  of  the  river  near  Winn's  Ferry.  That  knock  was 
a  joke,  for  her  father  and  brothers  were  strong  men.  Mrs. 
Harlan  was  an  estimable  woman.  They  lived  in  a  two-story 
frame  house  painted  white.  She  painted  the  stair  steps.  At 
the  end  of  our  journey  I  spent  my  first  night  in  that  house. 
He  owned  a  large  plantation  on  the  Coosawattee.  What  crops 
of  corn,  three  or  more  stalks  to  the  hill,  yielding  sixty  or  more 
bushels  to  the  acre!  Woe  to  the  hands  that  gathered  it,  for 
their  clothes  were  as  thickly  covered  with  cockleburs  and 
Spanish  needles  as  the  hairs  on  a  dog's  back !  He  had  a  large 
orchard  of  apples,  peaches,  and  other  fruits.  Better  fruit  it 
would  be  hard  to  find.  They  were  the  best  of  neighbors,  but 
they  left  for  the  West  in  1834. 

James  Monroe  was  a  skilled  mechanic,  millwright,  etc.,  and 
held  a  permit  from  the  government  and  the  Indians  to  live 
there  and  be  protected.  He  went  in  1816  and  built  the  only 
grist  and  saw  mills.  Monroe  was  a  nephew  of  the  late  Rev. 
W.  M.  Crumley.  Monroe's  death  was  tragic.  Riding  in 
a  gallop,  his  horse  threw  him  against  a  tree  and  killed  him, 

23 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


This  was  before  we  went;  but  the  tree  was  pointed  out,  and 
I  saw  it  many  a  time.  The  tree  died ;  and  some  years  after,  on 
a  still  day,  it  fell  and  killed  a  yoke  of  oxen,  the  driver  narrow- 
ly escaping.  His  grave  was  inclosed,  and  when  we  children 
went  to  it  on  Sunday  mornings  we  talked  low  and  walked 
lightly.    We  did  not  see  as  many  graves  then  as  we  do  now. 

The  surveyors  were  there.  I  saw  them  running  the  lines, 
marking  the  station  trees  and  corner  posts,  shaving  off  the 
outside  bark  of  the  trees,  and  making  the  figures  telling  the 
number  of  the  lot  of  land.  Where  one  of  those  trees  is  now 
alive,  the  figures  are  to  be  plainly  seen  to  this  day.  Mr.  Mc- 
Dowell, a  Baptist  preacher,  surveyed  that  district.  He 
preached  for  us  on  a  beautiful  Sunday  morning  in  May. 
These  men  had  a  hard  time  getting  on  in  the  wildwoods.  On 
the  side  of  a  mountain  a  rattlesnake  in  his  coil  ready  to  strike 
looked  them  in  the  face.  They  reported  that  three  days  after 
the  full  moon  in  May  and  August  was  the  best  time  to  kill  trees. 
A  lick  with  a  hatchet  sometimes  killed  a  chestnut  tree. 

A  month  had  gone,  and  there  was  no  home  to  buy  nor  one  to 
rent.  The  State  owned  all  the  land.  Father  was  disappointed 
in  his  plans.  Three  miles  away  there  was  a  nice  new  cabin 
which  had  never  been  occupied.  He  bought  it  and  moved  it 
on  the  road  between  the  Monroe  and  Harlan  places,  a  lovely 
locality,  with  one  of  the  best  springs  of  good  water,  all  in  the 
woods.  We  cleared  a  place  and  planted  a  little  garden.  How 
we  crowded  so  many  things  in  the  little  cabin  it  would  be  hard 
to  explain. 

The  cabin  was  made  of  small  logs  nicely  notched  down  at 
the  corners  and  squared  at  the  ends,  with  joists  and  a  loft. 
First  the  trees  had  to  be  cut  down  and  cleared  away.  Hence 
rails  and  boards  were  in  demand.     Some  tall  oaks  leaning  the 


24 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


other  way  had  to  come  town  too.  Mother  said  we  did  not 
know  which  way  the  wind  might  blow.  A  forest  is  a  dark  and 
lonely  place,  and  we  were  cheered  by  the  light  the  little  opening 
gave  us.  Nature's  surroundings  were  grand.  On  the  east 
near  by  was  a  ledge  of  mountains,  in  all  other  directions  a 
rich  and  beautiful  country.  As  time  offered  we  fenced  lots, 
built  stables,  and  opened  land.  We  bought  chickens  and  a  cow 
from  an  Indian  who  lived  on  Chicken  Creek.  He  was  well- 
to-do  and  had  a  large  house  with  a  hall,  piazza,  and  dining 
room.  He  took  in  travelers.  At  a  supper  there  we  had  bear 
meat,  clabber,  and  honey.  He  had  about  a  hundred  bee 
stands.  The  gums  were  of  hollow  trees  set  on  rocks  or  pieces 
of  boards,  two  or  three  by  a  tree.  The  old  people  understood 
but  could  not  speak  a  word  of  English.  The  younger  ones 
could  talk.  His  name  was  Calarxee  and  his  wife's  Takee,  and 
we  named  the  cow  Takee.  When  they  left,  mother  bought  her 
large  washpot,  a  good  article  of  English  castings.  I  don't 
know  how  long  it  had  been  used  by  old  Takee ;  but  it  rendered 
good  service  in  our  family  for  many  years,  not  only  for  wash- 
ing and  scrubbing,  but  in  general  cleaning  up.  The  old-time 
housekeepers  knew  the  worth  of  a  big  pot  of  hot  water.  Then, 
at  the  right  time  of  the  moon,  stirring  the  right  way  with  a 
sassafras  stick,  it  was  used  for  soap-making,  also  for  making 
lye  hominy  and  the  cooking  of  a  big  gobbler  that  was  too  large 
for  any  oven  on  the  place.  Fifty  years  ago  I  fell  heir  to  that 
useful  relic,  and  I  prize  it  highly  for  its  age  and  associations 
with  the  long,  long  ago.    It  is  well  taken  care  of  now. 

It  was  not  long  until  we  had  a  log  house,  which  was  followed 
by  a  good  frame  house.  We  built  good  stables  and  cribs, 
planted  fruit  trees  and  a  garden,  and  in  time  cleared  a  large 
body  of  good  land.     So  I  know  by  experience  what  it  means 

25 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


to  make  a  string  of  fence  half  a  mile  long  with  heavy  new 
rails.  We  had  fine  geese,  ducks,  turkeys,  hogs,  and  cows.  At 
one  time  we  milked  nine  cows.  I  had  good  experience  in 
slaughtering  and  putting  away  meat.  We  all  fell  in  love  with 
our  new  home.  In  the  spring  we  had  boxes  and  gourds 
hung  up  for  the  martins.  One  came  early  and  selected  his 
gourd  or  hole  in  the  box.  The  next  time  he  brought  his  bride. 
Then  ever  so  many  came,  and  how  they  did  sing  and  fight  the 
hawks!    Before  long  we  had  bee  gums  and  plenty  of  honey. 

The  place  where  we  built  is  known  now,  I  think,  as  the  Joe 
Mclntyre  place.  We  left  no  relatives  there.  When  we  first 
w^ent,  the  wealthy  mixed  bloods  received  us  cordially ;  but  they 
were  all  gone  by  1835,  and  we  felt  our  loss. 

The  year  1835  was  the  most  trying  year  with  the  newcomers 
there.  We  suffered  more  from  the  bad  Indians  and  white 
outlaws;  for  instance,  the  killing  of  the  Bowman  family, 
which  consisted  of  Bowman,  his  wife  and  little  girl,  and  an 
old  blind  aunt.  Having  a  grudge  against  him,  George  Tooke, 
a  bad  Indian,  and  five  or  six  more  went  to  the  house.  Bow- 
man fought  them  bravely,  wounding  one  of  them.  Overpow- 
ering him,  they  split  his  head  open  with  an  ax,  then  did  the 
same  to  his  wife.  They  left  the  old  aunt  in  the  house  to  be 
burned.  The  Indians  set  the  house  on  fire  and  stood  around 
to  see  it  burn.  The  little  girl  ran  out.  They  saw  the  little 
girl,  and  Tooke  snatched  her  up  in  his  arms.  She  clinched  his 
shirt  sleeves  in  her  hands.  He  then  threw  her  into  the  flames, 
she  with  part  of  his  shirt  still  in  her  hands.  The  whole  family 
suffered  death  in  the  burning  house.  Tooke  and  his  men  re- 
mained in  the  neighborhood  for  some  days.  Creek  Ben,  the 
one  whom  Bowman  had  wounded,  was  thrown  in  a  deep  creek 
and  drowned.    Tooke  fled  to  Cherokee  County.     Upon  being 

26 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


arrested,  he  was  severely  wounded  by  a  gunshot.  He  lay  in 
jail  at  Canton  until  he  was  able  to  be  carried  to  Cassville, 
where  he  was  hanged.  I  had  a  thrilling  account  of  Tooke's  ar- 
rest and  talked  with  the  sheriff  who  was  in  charge  of  the  ex- 
ecution. The  locality  is  in  Gordon  County  and  is,  I  suppose, 
kept  fresh  in  the  traditions  of  the  county. 

The  same  conditions  entered  into  the  courts.  This  rougher 
element  violated  their  oaths  without  a  qualm  of  conscience, 
especially  where  the  rights  of  the  better  classes  were  involved. 
My  father  was  deeply  interested  in  public  affairs  and  did 
what  he  could  to  have  good  men  elected  to  office.  He  himself 
was  a  judicial  officer.  He  suffered  dearly  for  his  efforts  in 
behalf  of  the  general  welfare  and  the  office  he  held,  on  one 
occasion  barely  escaping  with  his  life.  One  evening  he  was 
sitting  quietly  in  his  house  when  one  of  the  outlaws  forced 
his  way  through  the  door.  He  was  a  large  white  man,  and 
before  we  were  hardly  aware  of  his  intentions  he  had  given 
my  father  some  heavy  blows  with  a  club.  Father  sprang  from 
his  seat  and  grappled  with  the  ruffian  for  the  club.  My  brave 
little  mother  seized  the  assailant  around  the  waist  and  cried 
to  me:  "William,  get  the  ax."  This  I  did  and  began  to  use 
the  blade  with  all  my  might  on  the  man's  legs.  When  I  began 
this  attack,  the  man  hastily  retreated.  It  was  not  our  custom 
to  leave  the  ax  at  the  woodpile,  and  it  was  fortunate  that  in 
this  case  we  had  it  readily  accessible.  The  rascal  left  the 
county  and  was  never  afterwards  seen  in  those  parts.  He 
reported  to  some  of  his  friends  that  I  was  a  dangerous  boy 
with  a  sharp  ax.  The  reader  must  not  conclude  from  this  that 
I  was  a  "game"  boy,  for  I  have  never  had  a  fight  nor  even  a 
quarrel  with  anybody  in  my  life. 

When  about  thirteen  years  old  I  carried  the  mail  on  horse- 

27 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


back  from  Rock  Spring  to  Spring  Place,  a  distance  of  about 
twelve  miles.  Returning  one  evening  through  a  thick  forest, 
I  met  a  body  of  United  States  infantry  in  blue  uniform. 
I  had  never  seen  the  like  before.  The  officer  in  command 
halted  me  and  asked  me  to  let  him  open  the  mail.  I  told  him 
that  I  was  under  oath  not  to  allow  any  one  that  privilege.  He 
told  me  very  politely  that  he  had  the  right  to  do  so.  I  dis- 
mounted, and  he  opened  the  mail  bag,  examining  every  piece. 

Of  course  the  people  were  in  dread  of  the  dangers,  and  for 
this  reason  there  were  bodies  of  soldiers  stationed  at  different 
places  to  intimidate  the  Indians.  Many  people  had  already 
come,  and  by  1836  there  were  thousands  of  the  best  families 
that  had  already  moved  in. 

What  has  been  said  about  Murray  County  applies  to  other 
counties  in  that  part  of  the  State.  The  Floyds,  Walkers,  Lees, 
Quillians,  McFarlands,  etc.,  were  the  best  of  citizens.  We 
welcomed  every  newcomer,  and  the  friendship  and  strong  at- 
tachment felt  can  be  appreciated  only  by  going  through  the 
same  experience.    It  makes  the  best  of  neighbors. 

28 


CHAPTER  IV 

Some  Indian  Traits  and  Customs 

A  MILE  above  the  crossing,  in  the  first  of  the  Indian 
homes  I  visited,  lived  an  old  Indian  with  some  white 
blood  in  him.  It  was  said  that  his  father  was  an  old  Tory 
who  had  been  killed  by  a  white  man  with  a  long  knife.  Al- 
though more  than  eighty  years  ago,  I  distinctly  recall  the  visit 
and  most  of  the  objects  I  saw — the  ten-toed  speckled  chickens, 
the  numerous  cur  dogs,  the  beautiful  black-and-white-spotted 
cows,  and  the  active  ponies.  Note  the  Indian  names :  Chicken, 
"shetaugee" ;  dog,  "keetler" ;  hog,  "sequan" ;  cow,  "walker" ; 
horse,  "sequilla."  The  old  Indian  could  speak  a  few  English 
words.  He  was  a  peaceable  neighbor  and  sometimes  took  a 
meal  with  us,  sitting  at  arm's  length  from  the  table  and  hold- 
ing the  knife  and  fork  with  the  ends  of  his  fingers.  His  wife 
had  the  Indian  reticence  among  strangers  and  never  opened 
her  mouth  to  a  white  visitor.  With  a  woman's  curiosity,  my 
mother  called  to  see  them  one  evening.  They  were  cooking 
tripe,  and  she  asked:  "Uncle  Will,  what  do  you  call  this?" 
He  answered:  "We  call  it  squaller."  An  appropriate  name, 
for  one  might  squall  with  pain  after  eating  it. 

What  the  Indians  called  a  town  was  nothing  like  our  idea. 
It  was  a  section  of  eight  or  ten  miles  of  country  with  few 
houses  or  settlements.  Each  town  had  its  name.  Rabbit  Trap 
was  the  name  of  one  on  the  Cussawattee  River,  Cussawattee  Old 
Town  another,  and  others  were  Owl  Town  and  Turnip  Town. 
Their  homes  were  bare  of  all  comforts.  In  bitter  cold  weath- 
er they  slept  in  large  pits  called  hothouses.  Hothouse  Creek, 
in  Gilmer  County,  takes  its  name  from  these  Indian  warming 

29 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


places.  There  were  no  family  dining  tables.  Next  to  the  wall 
stood  a  table  three  feet  long  and  two  feet  wide,  on  which  were 
two  cedar  keelers,  the  capacity  of  each  being  about  two  gallons. 
In  one  was  a  stiff  mush  of  corn  meal  made  largely  of  parched 
corn.  The  mush  was  carried  to  the  mouth  with  the  fore  and 
middle  fingers  and  was,  therefore,  called  two-fingered  mush. 
Soup  was  drunk  out  of  a  large  wooden  spoon.  These  two  ves- 
sels were  kept  full,  and  any  one  coming  in  was  free  to  partake 
of  soup  or  mush  or  both.  The  Cherokee  name  for  the  soup 
was  "connahanee,"  and  the  Creeks  called  it  "sofkee."  Some- 
where in  Georgia  there  is  a.  town  called  Sofkee. 

The  Indians  lived  much  on  game.  When  a  deer  or  cow  or 
any  other  fresh  meat  was  brought  in,  it  was  boiled  or  roasted 
and  eaten  late  in  the  afternoon,  all  the  family  being  present. 
They  would  tear  off  a  slice  of  the  flesh  and  eat  to  their  fill. 
There  were  many  fallen  trees,  and  they  picked  up  much  of 
their  firewood.  They  cut  down  the  smallest  trees  and  cut  the 
sticks  for  the  fireplace  six  or  eight  feet  long.  These  they 
would  put  in  the  fire  and  push  up  as  they  were  burned.  They 
were  neither  fond  of  nor  fit  for  house  or  field  work.  I  spent 
but  one  night  in  any  of  their  cabins,  and  this  cabin  was  in 
a  dark  section  called  Mountain  Town.  The  fare  was  boiled 
eggs  and  boiled  sweet  potatoes  for  supper  and  breakfast. 
They  slept  on  deerskin  spread  on  the  floor,  and  some  hard 
substance  answered  for  a  pillow.  I  left  as  soon  as  I  could  the 
next  morning,  with  due  courtesy  to  my  host,  and  was  hardly 
out  of  sight  before  I  dismounted  from  my  horse  and  vomited. 
After  lying  on  the  ground  a  half  hour  or  so,  I  remounted  my 
horse  and  reached  home  in  safety. 

The  Indians  did  not  marry  young,  nor  did  they  wait  until 
they  were  old.     Boys  and  girls  usually  stayed  at  home  until 

30 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


they  were  fully  grown.  There  was  not  much  ceremony  at  a 
marriage,  but  they  lived  together.  Few  couples  parted.  Only 
a  few  of  the  rich  chiefs  had  two  wives.  As  a  rule,  they  all 
married.  The  women  wanted  a  home  and  a  protector  and  the 
men  a  wife  to  do  the  work.  Usually  there  were  not  many 
children  in  a  family,  and  the  little  Indians  took  to  the  water 
and  could  swim  like  ducks.  The  ambition  of  a  boy  was  to 
shoot  with  his  boAv  and  arrows,  and  he  soon  became  an  archer. 
I  have  seen  them  shoot  a  squirrel  out  of  the  top  of  a  tall  tree. 
Their  bows  were  made  of  sycamore,  and  the  arrows  of  reeds. 
They  were  great  ball  players.  Crowds  went  for  miles  to  see 
a  ball  game.  It  lasted  several  days.  I  remember  the  stick 
with  which  they  caught  the  ball,  but  no  one  would  understand 
it  if  described.  They  were  rough  players.  There  were  many 
bruised  bodies  and  broken  bones,  and  almost  at  every  ball 
game  there  was  one  or  more  killed.  Annually  they  had  a 
green  corn  dance  after  roasting  ears  were  fully  matured. 
They  tied  terrapin  shells,  with  something  to  make  them  rattle, 
to  their  ankles  and  moved  arotmd  in  a  large  circle  quite  slow- 
ly, making  a  grunting  noise.  They  held  on  till  late  in  the 
night,  then  tumbled  down  and  slept  almost  anywhere.  There 
was  solemnity  in  the  green-corn  dance.  When  traveling  they 
walked  or  rode  one  after  another.  If  the  road  was  ever  so 
wide,  they  went  in  single  file.  The  sober  Indians  would  give 
anything  for  whisky.  They  would  give  corn  for  it;  and  if 
the  measure  was  heaped,  they  would  say:  "You  don't  heap  the 
whisky."  They  would  get  drunk  the  quickest  and  the  drunk- 
est of  any  people  I  ever  saw.  But  there  was  always  one  sober 
Indian.  If  two  or  ten  were  together,  one  was  sober  and  took 
care  of  all  the  knives  and  pocketbooks  and  had  a  sad  face  all 
the  time ;  but  the  next  time  he  was  the  first  man  to  get  drunk. 

31 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


I  don't  remember  to  have  seen  a  drunken  woman.  The  wife 
had  whatever  property  she  brought  into  the  family. 

When  marauding  parties  went  to  the  white  settlements  and 
carried  off  boys  and  girls,  they  put  plaited  strings  around  the 
necks  of  the  captives  that  were  not  to  be  killed  and  to  signify 
whose  property  each  captive  was.  They  were  afraid  of  an 
angry  cloud,  and  the  women  would  hold  up  a  dog  to  turn  away 
the  thunderbolt.  Hume,  in  his  "History  of  the  Ancient  Irish," 
says  they  did  the  same  things — put  plaited  strings  upon  cap- 
tives, and  the  women  held  up  a  dog  before  the  angry  cloud  to 
turn  away  the  lightning.  Who  can  explain  it?  No  such  oc- 
currence took  place  in  my  day,  but  I  heard  it  from  the  lips  of 
the  honored  grandmother  of  the  late  Rev.  A.  J.  Deavors.  She 
herself  was  a  captive  for  nearly  a  year  and  saw  the  strings 
and  the  dogs.  Her  story  was  a  thrilling  one.  It  was  in  South 
Carolina,  in  the  locality  of  Lossen's  Fork.  It  was  a  bright, 
moonlight  night.  Quite  a  number  of  friends  were  at  a  neigh- 
bor's house.  Two  girls  were  walking  to  the  spring,  and  one 
said:  "What  if  the  Indians  were  to  come?"  In  a  moment  all 
the  men  were  shot  down,  the  house  plundered,  the  horses 
taken,  and  she  and  her  little  brother  and  sister  were  carried 
away  as  captives.  The  account  of  the  captives  I  had  from 
the  lips  of  the  old  lady.  They  were  taken  from  the  western 
part  of  South  Carolina,  then  a  frontier.  Their  raid  was  at  the 
full  of  the  moon  in  the  fall  of  the  year,  and  they  got  away  as 
fast  as  they  could.  They  traveled  by  night  and  hid  away 
in  the  dark  forests  all  day,  going  and  coming.  Their  trail  was 
by  Reinhardt,  across  Pine  Log  Mountain,  to  Pine  Log  Valley. 
Friendly  Indians  told  where  they  were.  A  band  of  white 
soldiers  rescued  them. 

I  attended  only  one  Indian  service.     The  weather  on  this 

32 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


occasion  was  cold  and  damp.  The  arbor  under  which  the 
meeting  was  held  was  covered  with  brush,  and  the  seats  were 
comfortable.  The  attendance  was  fairly  good.  The  minister 
and  the  hearers  seemed  quite  devout.  The  meeting  continued 
for  six  or  seven  days,  six  or  eight  members  being  added  to 
the  Church.  An  Indian  named  Watt  Foster  could  speak 
English  fairly  well,  and  I  think  he  could  also  write  it.  He 
was  always  a  welcome  visitor  at  our  home.  After  the  meeting 
he  came  and  reported  the  names  of  the  newly  added  members. 
He  said  that  Aunt  Katie  Falon  was  one.  When  asked  if  she 
was  baptized,  he  answered,  "Yes."  "Had  she  not  been  bap- 
tized before?"  "Yes."  "Why  did  they  baptize  her  again?" 
"To  make  her  stronger."  There  had  been  a  Baptist  mission 
that  they  had  attended,  but  I  am  unable  to  give  the  location 
of  this  work. 

The  Rev.  Jesse  Bushyhead,  a  half  Indian,  preached  once  in 
our  house.  In  the  course  of  his  sermon  he  said:  "Some  one 
said,  'Indians  have  no  souls.'  Do  you  think  I  have  only  half 
a  soul?  I  think  I  have  a  whole  soul  that  is  full  of  the  love 
of  God,  and  I  live  to  preach  that  love." 

George  Tassels,  the  first  Indian  hanged  under  the  law  of 
Georgia,  was  executed  at  Gainesville  on  a  cold,  sleety  day.  I 
remember  it  well.  We  had  not  moved  from  Hall  County  then. 
Twenty  years  afterwards  I  saw  his  skeleton  with  coagulated 
blood  about  his  neck.  Tassels  had  killed  Andrew  Falon,  a 
good  Indian,  the  son,  I  think,  of  Aunt  Katie  Falon. 

About  ten  miles  from  New  Echota  we  called  at  an  Indian 
house  and  asked  for  sweet  potatoes  and  boiled  eggs,  as  we 
were  hungry.  The  squaw  removed  the  shells  from  the  eggs 
until  she  came  to  the  last  one,  which  had  a  chick  in  it  about 
ready  to  hatch.  She  ate  the  wings  and  legs  of  this  unhatched 
3  33 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


fledgling  before  us  without  seeming  at  all  abashed.  She  was 
a  fair  sample  of  ninety-five  per  cent  of  the  Indians  of  that  day. 
The  quickening  touch  of  trade  and  commerce  beginning  to 
move  the  people  of  the  wild  tribes,  hundreds  of  Indians  went 
to  the  rich  coves  of  the  mountains  to  dig  gentian  and  pinkroot 
for  their  medicinal  properties.  They  packed  great  loads  upon 
their  ponies  and  delivered  them  where  they  could  be  carried  off 
in  wagons.  In  the  fall  of  the  year  they  went  to  the  mountains 
for  chestnuts  and  gathered  large  quantities  for  the  market. 
Often  some  of  the  party  ate  too  many  and  died  from  it. 

34 


CHAPTER  V 

Early  Politics  and  Preaching 

''T^HOSE  first  years  were  years  of  great  strain  and  trial.  It 
was  not  unlike  going  from  one  place  to  another  where 
people  and  objects  were  familiar,  but  the  very  opposites  were 
met  everywhere.  Often  we  talked  over  our  troubles  and  as 
often  broke  down  with  a  hearty  cry.  Dear  mother's  burden 
was  the  heaviest  of  all,  as  she  was  in  constant  fear  of  the  In- 
dians. The  troubles  and  the  transitional  state  of  the  country 
blocked  everything  like  business.  Father  could  do  but  little. 
He  was  not  afraid,  nor  rash,  but  cautious.  In  the  midst  of 
drunken  Indians  and  white  men  he  had  presence  of  mind  and 
knew  what  to  do  at  the  moment.  Three  times  he  narrowly 
escaped  death  by  lightning — at  Gainesville,  when  a  horse  was 
killed  and  he  was  knocked  to  his  knees ;  in  Murray  County, 
alone  in  the  woods,  he  was  thrown  to  the  ground  and  stunned 
for  a  time;  and  on  the  public  road  near  a  large  pine  tree  the 
thunderbolt  shivered  the  tree,  and  he  fell  from  his  horse  and 
was  not  hurt.  I  never  heard  him  express  the  least  fear  of 
lightning. 

There  were  two  political  parties;  and  politics,  like  noxious 
weeds,  grew  spontaneously  in  every  place.  Major  Ridge  head- 
ed one  party  and  John  Ross  the  other.  Ridge  told  his  people 
that  it  was  better  to  accept  the  offers  of  the  govermnent,  get 
pay,  and  go  West.  The  Ridge  party  were  all  friendly  to  the 
whites  and  good  neighbors.  In  1833-34,  when  the  laws  of  the 
State  were  set  up  and  the  oath  of  allegiance  was  taken,  white 
men  who  had  taken  up  with  the  Indians  could  take  the  oath 
and  get  an  office.    The  law  is  a  dangerous  weapon  when  in  the 

35 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


hands  of  bad  men.    One  has  to  experience  such  a  condition  to 
know  its  evils. 

In  1836-37  a  Httle  light  came.  Families  moved  in — the 
Catheys,  Blacks,  Brights,  a  colony  of  North  Carolinians. 
From  them  I  learned  the  history  of  the  western  part  of  the 
State,  of  Buncombe  and  other  counties,  the  mountains  and 
rivers,  and  remember  them  to  this  day.  Aunt  Eve  Smith,  an 
old  maid  with  a  fine  mind,  was  the  most  charming  story-teller 
[  ever  heard,  and  what  a  treat  it  was  for  us  children  when  she 
:ame  to  spend  the  night ! 

We  were  three  years  without  preaching.  Four  sermons 
heard  in  that  time  cannot  be  recalled ;  only  two  are  remem- 
bered, one  by  the  surveyor  and  one  by  a  half  Indian.  That 
part  of  Georgia  was  in  the  .bounds  of  the  Holston  Conference, 
and  the  first  preacher  was  Rev.  A.  H.  Ross.  The  Conference 
was  held  at  Abingdon,  Virginia.  It  was  a  long  journey  into  a 
lone  and  dangerous  field.  The  first  night  he  came  is  well  re- 
membered, bleak  and  cold,  in  November.  He  called  to  stay  all 
night  at  the  Ellis  Harlan  place,  on  the  Federal  Road  to  Rock 
Creek.  Mr.  Cathey  lived  there  then.  It  was  a  stopping  place 
for  travelers,  with  good  accommodations.  All  the  houses  were 
of  logs,  and  there  were  three  or  four — the  loom  house,  kitchen, 
eating  house,  family  room,  and  the  house  for  travelers,  the 
latter  having  a  wide  fireplace  well  filled  with  good  wood.  The 
house  was  full  that  night.  They  talked  about  the  current  events 
of  the  day.  The  lonely,  well-dressed  man,  with  a  fine  horse  and 
well-filled  saddlebags,  had  little  to  say,  but  attracted  every 
one's  attention.  I,  boylike,  was  everywhere  and  learned  what 
was  said.  One  said  one  thing,  and  some  one  else  said  that  he 
might  be  a  Murrell  man.  The  country  was  full  of  talk  about 
John  A.  Murrell,  the  great  Western  land  pirate. 

36 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


After  supper  was  over,  all  settled  down  before  the  good  fire ; 
and  in  an  impressive  manner  he  told  who  he  was,  for  what 
he  had  come,  and,  if  agreeable  to  the  family  and  those  present, 
he  would  pray.  The  lesson  from  the  Bible  was  read,  and  a 
hymn  was  sung.  The  prayer  was  tinged  with  the  feeling  of  a 
stranger  and  with  confidence  in  the  promise,  "I  am  with  thee." 
All  felt  the  pathos  and  power  of  that  prayer.  It  touched  the 
heart  of  Mrs.  Cathey  and  maybe  others.  I  shared  the  bed 
with  him.  I  have  not  the  least  idea  as  to  the  wide  field  he 
went — some  places  to  visit  but  once.  At  Dallas,  in  Tennessee, 
he  was  beaten  by  four  gamblers,  one  the  sheriff.  Swift  retri- 
bution followed  them.  One  came  to  his  death  in  a  steamboat 
accident.  Six  months  afterwards  one  was  shot  to  death  over 
a  gambling  table.  Another  was  cut  to  death  over  a  game  of 
cards.  In  a  short  time  the  sheriff  lost  all  he  had  and  was  a 
drunken  vagabond  till  he  died.  I  saw  him  at  Harrison,  Ham- 
ilton County,  Tennessee,  in  1843.  The  town  died,  and  the 
courthouse  was  moved  to  Harrison.  Perhaps  Mr.  Ross 
preached  only  half  a  dozen  times  at  one  place,  but  he  kept 
appointments  where  he  hoped  his  successor  might  do  some- 
thing.    His  labor  was  not  in  vain.     He  left  good  impressions. 

Rev.  W.  M.  Rush  followed  the  next  year.  Prospects  were 
a  little  brighter.  The  preacher  was  quite  young,  just  from 
school  and  from  a  home  of  wealth,  affable,  and  well  dressed. 
Tight  pants  were  the  fashion,  and  some  of  the  young  people 
said  that  his  were  too  tight  for  kneeling.  But  little  impres- 
sion was  made. 

Rev.  Elijah  Still  came  next.  This  brings  us  to  1837. 
Nothing  like  building  a  church  or  collecting  a  membershii> 
had  been  spoken  of,  but  the  preacher  did  good.  He  was  a 
pure  Christian  with  good  gifts  and  had  mixed  with  the  peo- 

37 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


pie ;  not  light  and  funny,  not  at  all  cold  and  reserved.  Where 
he  visited  he  won  the  family  and  directly  the  people  of  the 
community.  People  not  in  the  Church  felt  it  their  duty,  for 
their  credit's  sake,  to  take  care  of  the  preacher.  So  one  man 
would  say  to  another:  "You  must  take  care  of  Mr.  Still  next 
time."  Those  who  had  not  much  love  for  the  Methodists  liked 
Mr.  Still.  They  preached  in  private  homes  or  some  vacant 
house.  Jeremiah  Harrison,  one  of  the  faithful  ones,  had 
moved  in  and  would  exhort  after  the  preacher.  He  and  the 
preacher  wanted  the  seed  sown  with  their  tears.  Brother 
Harrison  died  in  his  field  in  a  fence  corner  kneeling  alone,  as 
if  the  angels  met  him  while  engaged  in  prayer.  The  good 
preacher  did  not  get  on  so  well  at  some  places,  for  at  Spring 
Place  some  rude  fellows  of  the  baser  sort  shaved  his  fine 
horse's  tail,  and  shaved  it  close  to  the  skin.  His  horse  was  a 
beautiful  chestnut  sorrel  and  was  highly  prized  by  the  owner. 
No  such  thing  would  have  been  done  in  our  neighborhood. 
All  of  our  settlement  was  up  to  a  good  average  for  honorable 
people — the  Catheys,  Blacks,  Brights,  Mclntyres,  Atkinsons, 
Carters,  and  others.  Col.  Harris  Carter  lived  at  Milledgeville 
(rather  at  Scottsboro)  and  was  one  of  the  largest  property 
owners  in  the  State.  They  were  there  during  the  summer. 
His  partner,  Atkinson,  lived  there  several  years.  Mrs.  Car- 
ter was  a  devout  member  of  the  Baptist  Church,  was  deeply 
concerned  about  the  training  of  her  children,  and  taught  them 
by  precept  and  example  to  be  Christians. 

The  spring  of  1838  opened  most  beautifully.  There  was  no 
cold  weather  after  the  first  of  March.  Vegetation  advanced 
without  any  backsets  from  cold.  The  buds  burst  into  leaves 
and  blossoms ;  the  woods  were  green  and  gay  and  merry  with 
the  singing  birds.     The  Indians  started  to  work  in  their  fields 

38 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


earlier  than  ever  before.  Usually  they  were  lazy  and  late  in 
starting  with  their  crops,  working  around  logs  in  their  fields 
and  letting  bushes  and  briers  grow  in  the  fence  corners.  That 
spring  you  could  see  the  smoke  of  their  log  heaps  or  piles  of 
ashes  where  the  boys  had  been.  Fence  corners  and  hedgerows 
were  cleaned  out.  The  ground  was  well  plowed  and  the  corn 
planted  better  than  ever  before.  Soon  it  was  knee-high  and 
growing  nicely.  They  cultivated  only  the  richest  bottoms. 
An  Indian  never  worked  an  acre  of  poor  land. 

After  all  the  warning  and  with  the  soldiers  in  their  midst, 
the  inevitable  day  appointed  found  the  Indians  at  work  in 
their  houses  and  in  their  fields.  It  is  remembered  as  well  as  if 
it  had  been  seen  yesterday,  that  two  or  three  dropped  their 
hoes  and  ran  as  fast  as  they  could  when  they  saw  the  soldiers 
coming  into  the  field.  After  that  they  made  no  effort  to  get  out 
of  the  way.  The  men  handled  them  gently,  but  picked  them  up 
in  the  road,  in  the  field,  anywhere  they  found  them,  part  of  a 
family  at  a  time,  and  carried  them  to  the  post.  Everything  in 
their  homes  was  left  only  for  a  day  or  two  and  then  hauled  to 
the  post.  When  a  hundred  or  more  families  had  been  collect- 
ed, they  were  marched  to  Ross's  Landing  (now  Chattanooga). 
It  was  a  mournful  sight  to  all  who  witnessed  it — old  men  and 
women  with  gray  hairs  walking  with  the  sad  company.  Pro- 
visions were  made  for  those  to  ride  who  could  not  walk. 

I  had  a  part  in  all  this  tragic  scene.  Col.  W.  J.  Howard, 
the  quartermaster,  boarded  with  us  and  kept  his  office  in  the 
Harlan  house.  There  were  no  army  wagons  and  teams,  and 
he  hired  what  he  needed  and  gave  father  the  privilege  of  fur- 
nishing some  of  the  supplies  for  the  post.  Horses  and  oxen 
did  most  of  the  work.  We  had  a  yoke,  strong  and  true,  and 
they  walked  nearly  as  fast  as  horses.    I  was  the  driver,  and  I 

39 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


hauled  the  first  corn  for  their  horses  and  perhaps  the  last. 
Daily  we  made  five  dollars,  one  day  thirteen.  Corn  was  worth 
one  dollar  a  bushel  and  sold  for  one  dollar  and  a  half.  It  was 
a  hard  day's  work,  starting  early  and  getting  back  late,  and 
this  was  the  daily  round. 

In  hauling  the  stuff  from  the  cabins  a  file  of  six  or  more 
men  went  with  me  as  a  guard.  They  forced  open  the  doors 
and  put  the  poor,  meager  household  effects  into  the  wagons, 
sometimes  the  stuff  of  twO'  or  three  families  at  one  load.  Aft- 
er following  me  a  mile  or  two  the  guards  galloped  away,  leav- 
ing me  in  worse  danger  than  any  one  else;  for  if  there  had 
been  an  Indian  hiding  out,  I  would  have  been  the  one  to  suffer. 

But  few  of  the  Indians  ever  went  back  to  their  homes.  We 
turned  the  cows  and  calves  together,  as  they  had  been  apart  a 
day  or  two.  Chickens,  cats,  and  dogs  all  ran  away  when  they 
saw  us.  Ponies  under  the  shade  trees  fighting  the  flies  with 
the  noise  of  their  bells;  the  cows  and  calves  lowing  to  each 
other;  the  poor  dogs  howling  for  their  owners;  the  open  doors 
of  the  cabins  as  we  left  them — to  have  seen  it  all  would  have 
melted  to  tenderness  a  heart  of  stone.  And  in  contrast  there 
was  a  beautiful  growing  crop  of  com  and  beans. 

40 


CHAPTER  VI 

Preparations  for  the  Removal  of  the  Cherokees 

ITROM  Evans's  "History  of  Georgia,"  page  228,  I  take  the 
following: 

In  December,  1835,  a  treaty  was  made  with  the  Indians  at  New  Echota, 
a  place  in  Gordon  County  not  far  from  the  town  of  Calhoun.  The  princi- 
pal articles  of  this  treaty  were  as  follows :  The  Cherokee  Nation  gave  up 
their  claim  to  all  lands  east  of  the  Mississippi  River  for  the  sum  of  five 
million  dollars  and  a  tract  of  seven  million  acres  west  of  the  Mississippi 
River.  This  land  was  never  to  be  included  in  any  other  States.  The 
United  States  agreed  to  protect  the  Cherokees  from  civil  strife  and  for- 
eign enemies,  to  convey  them  to  their  new  homes,  and  to  maintain  them 
for  one  year  after  their  arrival. 

In  1834  a  band  of  them  broke  open  and  robbed  a  smokehouse  belonging 
to  a  white  man  who  lived  on  the  border.  Eli  Hicks,  a  friendly  Indian 
chief,  who  favored  the  removal  of  the  Indians  to  lands  west  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi River,  went  with  only  two  followers  in  pursuit  of  the  robbers. 
When  he  found  their  camp,  he  walked  in  among  them  and  began  to  up- 
braid them  for  their  conduct.  One  of  them  fired  at  him,  and  he  died  two 
days  afterwards.  Several  other  chiefs  who  were  willing  to  move  West 
were  also  shot  by  Indians.  The  white  families  along  the  border  were, 
therefore,  in  great  terror,  and  troops  were  stationed  there  to  preserve 
the  peace.  The  United  States  government  soon  saw  the  necessity  of  taking 
some  active  steps  to  remove  those  troublesome  people. 

Then  the  treaty  of  1835,  already  mentioned,  followed. 
Let  the  reader  take  notice  that  all  that  is  said  by  the  calum- 
niators is  not  only  false,  but  is  an  absurdity.  They  were  given 
from  1835  to  1838  to  take  their  departure.  The  limit  was 
May  24,  1838.  Everything  for  their  comfort  was  considered. 
The  mildest  time  of  the  year  was  given.  By  the  first  of  1838 
the  government  saw  that  it  would  have  to  move  them.  From 
twenty-five  hundred  to  three  thousand  troops  made  their  ren- 

41 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


dezvous  at  New  Echota  under  General  Winfield  Scott,  an  offi- 
cer of  experience  and  a  most  capable  one.  The  situation  re- 
quired a  dozen  or  more  military  posts.  All  was  soon  arranged, 
and  by  the  first  of  March  all  the  captains  had  their  commands 
at  their  places.  They  went  to  work  building  forts  and  making 
every  preparation  for  collecting  the  Indians.  It  was  not 
thought  there  would  be  any  fighting.  The  Indians  had  no  arms 
to  fight  with ;  but,  lest  some  daring  bandit  should  give  trouble, 
it  was  well  enough  to  be  prepared  against  it.  Fort  Gilmer  was 
near  the  Carter  place.  The  soldiers  came  on  March  26,  1838. 
I  delivered  to  them  the  first  corn  for  their  horses  on  that  day. 

On  a  mild  May  morning  two  men  stood  at  our  gate.  Dis- 
mounted from  his  large,  raw-boned  white  horse,  his  bridle 
rein  on  his  arm,  stood  General  Scott,  with  White  Path, 
an  Indian,  for  whom  White  Path  Gold  Mine  was  named. 
There  was  neither  a  white  man  nor  an  Indian  there,  only  two 
old  soldiers  who  had  met  at  the  battle  of  Horseshoe  Bend. 
White  Path  exhibited  a  medal  that  General  Jackson  had  given 
him  for  his  bravery  in  this  battle. 

The  names  of  some  of  the  officers  are:  Colonel  Buffington, 
of  Hall  County;  Major  Venable;  the  late  Hon.  Cincinnatus 
Peoples,  then  a  young  lawyer  and  secretary  to  the  Major 
(this  handsome  young  officer  died  soon  after  his  return  to 
his  home,  at  Jefferson)  ;  Capt.  C.  W.  Bond,  of  Franklin 
County;  J.  W.  Horton,  of  Jackson  County;  Brewster,  of 
Walton;  Cleveland,  of  Franklin;  Dorsey,  of  Hall;  and  Far- 
ris,  of  Walker.  The  soldiers  under  them  were  among  our 
best  citizens,  intelligent  and  moral  men. 

There  are  civil  and  military  codes  providing  for  the  protec- 
tion of  prisoners.  A  civil  officer  is  bound  to  protect  his  pris- 
oner; and  a  military  officer  that  would  abuse  a  prisoner  is 

42 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


always  regarded  as  a  low,  mean  coward.  The  Indians  were 
neither  prisoners  nor  captives.  They  were  the  defenseless 
wards  of  the  government,  cared  for  and  fed  from  the  commis- 
sary stores.  From  General  Scott  down,  every  soldier  and 
citizen  looked  upon  them  with  an  eye  of  pity.  I  think  I  can 
safely  say  that  there  was  not  a  man  who'  would  have  abused 
them  by  word  or  bayonet.  General  Scott  thought  he  could  col- 
lect them  in  twenty  days.  It  took  him  about  thirty  days.  They 
were  all  gathered  up  by  the  24th  of  June.  No  Indian  stayed  at 
the  fort  more  than  ten  days,  perhaps.  When  a  sufficient  num- 
ber were  collected,  they  were  carried  to  Ross's  Landing  or  some 
place  outside  the  limit  of  Georgia.  The  Indians  were  not  kept 
in  the  forts,  but  camped  just  outside  the  soldiers'  camps.  All 
old  and  infirm  Indians  were  carried  in  wagons.  The  young 
Indians  and  children  were  as  merry  as  larks.  I  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing  the  things  of  which  I  write.  As  I  have  said, 
I  delivered  the  first  corn  their  horses  ate  and  perhaps  the  last. 

Colonel  Howard  employed  me  to  carry  papers  to  Fort  Het- 
sell,  near  Ellijay.  It  was  twenty-five  miles,  a  pathway  in  the 
mountains,  one  stretch  of  seventeen  miles  without  a  house.  I 
had  seen  the  track  of  a  large  man  in  sandy  places  and  dreaded 
to  overtake  him.  Crossing  Big  Mountain  Town  Creek,  thirty 
yards  wide,  there  sat  the  man  on  a  log,  putting  on  his  shoes. 
He  had  waded  the  creek,  and  there  was  the  hammer  of  his  pis- 
tol on  his  vest.  Holding  firmly  my  bridle  reins  and  my  feet 
well  in  the  stirrups  till  he  was  behind  me,  I  felt  better  when  out 
of  sight  of  his  pistol.  The  last  long  rays  of  the  sun  were  shoot- 
ing along  the  streets  of  Ellijay  as  I  galloped  up  to  Fort  Het- 
sell.  The  next  morning  the  soldiers  took  the  papers.  They 
pertained  to  the  sale  of  the  commissary  stores  at  Fort  Gilmer. 

43 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


I  was  entertained  with  soldierly  hospitality  and  returned  home 
the  next  day. 

The  next  year,  after  the  soldiers  and  Indians  were  gone,  I 
passed  in  those  mountains  the  most  dreadful  night  of  my  life 
on  a  business  call  to  EUijay  and  to  a  point  about  eight  miles 
north  of  there.  I  was  told  that  if  I  went  a  certain  route  I 
could  save  about  five  miles.  All  the  routes  were  upon  little 
narrow  paths.  I  was  directed  to  go  by  a  lick  log.  Cattle  and 
horses  were  turned  in  to  range  on  the  rich  land  of  grass  and  pea 
vines.  They  were  salted  about  once  a  week  at  a  lick  log,  a 
long  log  with  a  place  chipped  out  in  which  to  put  salt.  The 
stock  had  come  from  different  directions,  and  they  spent  the 
night  at  the  log.  It  was  difficult  to  decide  which  path  was 
the  right  one.  The  wrong  one  was  taken.  Soon  after  cross- 
ing the  big  creek  the  path  went  entirely  out  of  the  way.  I 
knew  I  was  on  the  west  side  of  the  big  creek,  but  wandered 
about  until  just  before  sunset.  It  had  been  a  cloudy  day;  but 
half  an  hour  before  the  sun  set  it  was  as  bright  a  one  as  was 
ever  seen,  appearing  as  clear  as  a  sunrise  in  the  east. 

I  knew  I  was  doomed  for  the  night  on  the  side  of  a  moun- 
tain of  rich  land  where  years  before  a  storm  had  blown  down 
every  tree.  The  bears  usually  turned  over  the  logs  for  bugs. 
The  spot  where  I  was  was  thickly  set  with  bushes  and  vines. 
Going  down  the  mountain,  I  discovered  a  small  creek  running 
into  a  larger  one.  I  dismounted  and  waded  the  creek,  leading 
the  horse  over.  By  this  time  it  was  dark.  Going  up  a  deep 
ravine,  I  couldn't  see  my  hand  before  me ;  so  I  gave  my  horse 
the  bridle,  and  he  went  straight  toward  home  until  about 
nine  o'clock.  I  was  just  over  a  spell  of  sickness  and  had 
eaten  nothing  since  breakfast.  I  was  nearly  overcome  with 
sleep.     Where  I  stopped  the  ground  was  level.     Wrapped 

44 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


m  my  overcoat,  my  feet  in  my  blanket,  and  with  the  sad- 
dle for  a  pillow,  I  nestled  down  on  the  south  side  of  a  log. 
My  horse  was  tied  near  by.  I  slept  soundly  for  at  least  three 
hours.  There  were  wolves,  panthers,  and  bears;  but  none  of 
them  troubled  me.  At  different  times  of  the  night  deer  came 
up  to  me.  Next  morning,  after  waiting  till  sunup  that  I 
might  get  directions,  I  reached  home  safely.  This  was  about 
November  30,  1839.  Only  the  Lord  knows  how  thankful  I 
have  been  for  the  preservation  of  my  life  that  night. 

Let  me  here  contradict  what  has  been  recorded  in  periodi- 
cals and  books  saying  that  the  Indians  hid  out  and  fed  on 
berries  and  roots,  also  that  old  Indians  and  little  ones  were 
left  in  the  homes  to  perish.  Every  word  of  this  is  untrue. 
They  felt  no  fear  of  the  soldiers,  realizing  at  once  that  they 
w^ere  their  protectors.  Not  one  of  them  could  have  been 
tempted  to  leave  the  camp  a  mile.  I  am  persuaded  that  more 
than  half  of  them  were  glad  and  ready  to  go. 

Mississippi  was  admitted  as  a  State  and  had  been  in  posses- 
sion of  her  territory  for  twenty-one  years.  Alabama,  admit- 
ted in  1 8 19,  had  been  in  possession  of  her  territory  nineteen 
years.  Much-maligned  Georgia  had  been  kept  from  her  rights 
thirty-six  years,  from  1802  to  1838,  Take  notice  of  this  when 
you  see  in  encyclopedias  and  other  books  that  Georgia  is 
charged  with  robbing  the  Indians  of  their  lands. 

The  treaty  of  1835  contemplated  that  all  Indians  would  be 
out  of  Georgia  by  the  first  of  July  and  safely  landed  in  their 
Western  home  by  the  first  of  September,  embracing  the  mild- 
est part  of  the  year.  These  wise  provisions  were  all  thwarted, 
and  they  were  kept  for  a  long  time  in  Tennessee.  Van  Buren 
was  President  then  and  did  not  have  the  backbone  of  Jackson. 
As  I  have  learned,  he  made  a  contract  with  Chief  Ross  to 

45 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


carry  out  their  removal.  This  delayed  matters  till  the  dead 
of  winter,  causing  much  sickness  and  many  deaths.  To 
lug  this  into  a  history  of  Georgia  does  great  injustice  to  the 
State.  The  massacre  of  the  three  leading  chiefs — Major 
Ridge,  John  Ridge,  and  Boudinot  —  was  a  barbarous  act. 
As  there  were  six  hundred  braves  at  the  home  of  Ross 
that  day,  no  one  would  believe  that  he  had  no  hand  in  it  any 
more  than  they  would  say  even-handed  justice  had  overtaken 
them.  These  men  died  martyrs  for  their  country,  and  some- 
where there  ought  to  be  a  monument  to  perpetuate  their  mem- 
ory. No'  one  who  knows  the  story  of  Boudinot  can  read  it 
without  pitying  his  motherless  children,  for  whom  he  was 
preparing  a  home  while  she  was  sleeping  in  her  grave  at  New 
Echota.  A  merciful  Providence  provided  for  them.  Their 
mother's  friends  and  others  took  care  of  them.  The  oldest 
son,  Cornelius  Elias  Boudinot,  was  educated  at  a  college  in 
Arkansas.  He  was  a  lieutenant  colonel  in  the  Confederate 
army.  For  many  years  he  represented  the  interests  of  his 
people  in  Washington  City.  He  was  very  popular  and  suc- 
cessful in  what  he  did.  Upon  good  authority  it  may  be  said 
that  he  married  a  lady  possessing  about  fifty  thousand  dol- 
lars.   I  have  his  picture. 

In  Emerson's  "History  of  the  Nineteenth  Century,"  Vol- 
ume n.,  page  896,  is  this  untruth: 

Other  acts  of  persecution  during  this  year  brought  lasting  disgrace  upon 
Georgia.  In  direct  violation  of  the  Federal  treaties  with  the  Indians,  the 
State  troops  of  Georgia  forcibly  removed  sixteen  thousand  Cherokees  from 
their  lands  in  that  State.  Nothing  was  done  to  alleviate  the  sufiferings  of 
the  Cherokees,  who  were  driven  from  the  settlements  in  midwinter.  The 
resulting  death  rate  was  fearful.  More  than  forty-five  hundred  Indians, 
or  one-fourth  of  the  whole  number,  perished  before  they  reached  their 
destination  in  the  distant  Indian  Territory. 

46 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


Every  word  of  this  is  false,  slanderous,  absurd.  The  removal 
was  not  in  violation  of,  but  carried  out  to  the  letter.  Federal 
treaties  and  not  those  of  the  State  of  Georgia.  Notice  should 
be  taken  of  this  by  historical  associations  of  the  State  and  by 
the  Legislature. 

Take  another  case.  A.  C  Millar,  in  the  January,  19 16, 
number  of  the  Methodist  Quarterly  Review,  page  171,  says: 
"Those  who  were  utterly  unable  to  travel,  the  helpless  aged 
and  the  mortally  ill,  were  left  in  remote  cabins  to  die  of  star- 
vation and  neglect."  Old  Indians  and  children  were  not  left 
in  houses  to  perish.  Every  word  of  this  sentence  is  as  far 
from  the  truth  as  the  blackest  midnight  is  from  the  midday 
Sim. 

As  to  Professor  Mooney,  let  me  say  something  about  Long- 
fellow's "Evangeline."  In  the  case  of  Acadian  exiles  and  the 
moving  of  the  Cherokees  there  is  not  the  faintest  resemblance. 
In  Lawton  B.  Evans's  "History  of  Georgia,"  page  56,  we 
read: 

The  business  which  called  Governor  Reynolds  to  Savannah  was  the 
arrival  of  two  ships  with  four  hundred  Acadians  on  board.  These  Aca- 
dians  were  French  Catholics  from  Nova  Scotia,  then  called  Acadia.  Un- 
der the  laws  of  Georgia  no  Catholic  could  be  admitted  to  the  province ;  and 
as  these  Acadians  were  Catholics,  the  Governor  was  in  doubt  as  to  what  to 
do.  The  feeling  of  humanity  prevailed  over  his  respect  for  the  law,  and  the 
Acadians  were  cared  for  during  the  coming  winter.  Most  of  them  left 
Georgia  as  soon  as  possible. 

They  were  driven  away  from  Acadia  in  the  dead  of  winter, 
not  knowing  where  to  go  nor  what  to  do.  Not  so  were  the 
wards  of  the  United  States.  Every  Indian  had  the  protection 
of  the  entire  army  and  had  bread  enough  from  every  commis- 
sary. 

Here  I  quote  from  Knight's  "Georgia's  Landmarks,  Memo- 

47 


M  y    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


rials,   and  Legends,"   from  the  chapter  entitled  "Under  the 
Lash": 

To  an  eminent  investigator,  Professor  Mooney,  of  the  Bureau  of 
Ethnology,  Washington,  D.  C,  who  has  devoted  his  life  to  Indian  re- 
searches, we  are  indebted  for  the  following  graphic  account  of  the  removal 
of  the  Cherokees  from  Georgia.  He  makes  no  effort  to  soften  the  colors. 
The  story  is  most  pathetic,  and  even  at  this  late  day  some  of  the  incidents 
cannot  fail  to  melt  the  reader  to  tears.  Says  Professor  Mooney :  "The 
history  of  this  Cherokee  removal  of  1838  was  gleaned  by  the  author  from 
the  lips  of  actors  in  the  tragedy  and  may  well  exceed  in  weight  of  grief 
and  pathos  any  other  passage  in  American  annals.  Even  the  much-sung 
exile  of  the  Acadians  falls  far  behind  it  in  the  sum  of  death  and  suffering. 
Under  the  orders  of  Gen.  Winfield  Scott,  troops  were  stationed  at  various 
points  throughout  the  Cherokee  country,  where  stockade  forts  were  erect- 
ed for  the  purpose  of  coralling  the  Indians  preparatory  to  removal.  From 
these  forts  large  squads  of  troops  were  sent  out  to  search  with  rifle  and 
bayonet  every  small  cabin  hidden  away  in  the  coves  of  the  mountains  and 
to  make  prisoners  of  all  the  occupants,  however  and  wherever  they  might 
be  found.  Families  at  dinner  were  startled  by  the  sudden  gleam  of  bayo- 
nets in  the  doorway  and  rose  up  to  be  driven  with  blows  and  oaths  along 
the  weary  miles  of  travel  leading  to  the  stockades.  Men  were  seized  in 
the  fields  all  along  the  roads.  Women  were  taken  from  their  wheels,  and 
children  from  their  play.  In  many  cases,  as  they  turned  for  one  last  look 
as  they  crossed  the  ridge,  they  saw  their  homes  in  flames,  fired  by  the 
lawless  rabble  that  followed  on  the  heels  of  the  soldiers  to  loot  and  to 
pillage.  So  keen  were  these  outlaws  on  the  scent  that  in  some  instances 
they  were  driving  off  the  cattle  and  other  stock  of  the  Indians  almost 
before  the  soldiers  had  started  their  owners  in  the  other  direction.  Sys- 
tematic hunts  were  made  by  the  same  men  for  Indian  graves  to  rob  them 
of  the  silver  pendants  and  other  valuables  deposited  with  the  dead.  One 
of  the  Georgia  volunteers,  afterwards  a  colonel  in  the  Confederate  serv- 
ice, said:  T  fought  through  the  Civil  War.  It  has  been  my  experience  to 
see  men  shot  to  pieces  and  slaughtered  by  thousands.  But  the  Cherokees' 
removal  was  the  cruelest  work  I  ever  saw.' " 

I  feel  justified  in  saying  that  there  were  neither  blows  nor 
oaths  on  the  way  to  the  fort.  Men  were  not  seized  anywhere, 
nor  were  their  houses  in  flames.     Not  one  hoof  of  cattle  was 

48 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


driven  away,  not  one  Indian  grave  disturbed,  and  there  was  no 
lawless  rabble.  I  have  never  seen  on  any  page  of  history  such 
a  malignant,  unmitigated,  slanderous  absurdity.  On  reading 
it  my  blood  boiled.  This  is  a  slander  upon  General  Scott  and 
every  man  in  that  command,  and  now  it  reaches  to  the  second 
and  third  generations  of  those  noble  men.  Lest  we  should 
think  Nova  Scotia  was  cruel  in  banishing  the  Acadian  exiles, 
it  should  be  said  that  the  bone  of  contention  between  the 
French  and  English  for  years  had  been  the  government. 
The  "Student's  Reference  Work,"  Volume  XL,  says: 

Montcalm  was  born  near  Nimes,  France,  February  20,  1712.  He  be- 
came commander  of  the  French  army  in  Canada  in  1756,  capturing  very 
soon  after  the  British  fort  at  Oswego.  Crossing  Lake  George  with  eight 
thousand  French  and  Indian  troops,  he  took  Fort  William  Henry,  where 
the  massacre  by  the  Indians  of  the  helpless  women  and  children  has  left 
a  blot  on  his  memory. 

"Stem  was  the  necessity  for  this  banishment  of  the  Aca- 
dians  from  the  reclaimed  land  of  Grand  Pre ;  but  tragic  as  is 
the  story,  it  is  well  to  remember  that  the  narrative  embodied 
in  the  poet's  romance  is  not  altogether  to  be  taken  from  his- 
tory." Like  the  missionaries,  they  refused  to  take  the  oath 
of  allegiance.  When  Governor  Holden  was  impeached  by 
the  Legislature  of  North  Carolina,  the  legislative  web  had  a 
black-and-white  selvage.  When  the  day  arrived,  every  space 
was  occupied.  The  negroes  were  in  the  gallery  with  their 
necks  craned  over  the  railing,  everything  still,  all  looking 
and  listening.  Before  calling  the  roll,  the  clerk  said:  "All 
for  impeachment  say  'Yes' ;  all  opposed  say  'No.'  "  The  an- 
swer started,  "Yes,"  "Yes."  On  the  colored  side  came,  "No," 
"No,"  "No."  Then  "Y-e-s."  "Dare  now,  bit  by  his  own 
4  49 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


dog!"  said  an  old  colored  man.     My  application  is  from  Mr. 
Knight's  "History." 

Notwithstanding  the  defamation  of  Georgia  by  Lucian 
Knight,  Wilson,  Emerson,  and  others,  Mr.  Knight  injured 
her  more  than  any  because  of  his  ability.  His  book  is 
couched  in  elegant  diction,  pleasing  paragraphs,  charming 
chapters,  and  all  that  pertains  to  the  old  part  of  the  State  is  as 
clear  of  error  and  untruth  as  the  cleanest  winnowed  wheat  is 
from  a  particle  of  chaff.  But  not  so  with  a  single  chapter 
pertaining  to  Georgia  and  the  Cherokees.  Those  who  have 
more  capacity  than  I  may  appreciate  his  book  more.  Some 
of  my  reasons  for  writing  thus  positively  are:  I  have  been 
spared  to  live  a  long  life,  and  in  earlier  days  I  mingled  with 
many  who  are  mentioned  as  landmarks.  As  I  read  of  them 
I  see  them  again.  Then,  too,  I  have  been  over  much  of  the 
State,  the  northern,  middle,  and  southern  parts.  Only  those 
with  greater  capacity  can  love  Georgia  and  her  people  more 
than  I. 

50 


CHAPTER  VII  

The  Treaty  with  the  Cherokees  in  1802 

TNASMUCH  as  our  good  State  has  been  misrepresented  and 
defamed  for  defrauding  the  Indians  of  their  lands  and 
gold  mines,  it  may  be  well  to  state  when  and  by  whom  the 
treaty  was  made  and  the  terms  of  agreement.  It  was  made  by 
President  Jefferson,  the  father  of  States'  rights  and  Jeft'erso- 
nian  Democracy.  The  terms  of  the  treaty  were  approved  by 
the  Federal  authorities  and,  on  the  other  part,  by  Gov.  John 
Milledge  and  the  principal  authorities  of  Georgia. 

Hitherto  Georgia  had  possessed  all  the  territory  to  the  Mis- 
sissippi River.  Georgia  was  paid  one  and  one-half  million 
dollars  by  the  government  for  the  territory  ceded,  which  now 
includes  Alabama  and  Mississippi.  On  the  part  of  the  United 
States,  she  promised  to  extinguish  the  Indians'  title  and  re- 
move them  from  Georgia  as  soon  as  practicable.  They  were 
not  moved  until  1838.  Why  this  delay?  From  Washington's 
time  to  the  present  day  the  Indians  have  been  the  wards  of 
the  United  States  government,  with  the  President  as  principal 
guardian.  Like  many  other  cases,  meddlers  have  interfered 
with  wards  and  guardians,  and  many  times  the  wards  have 
been  the  sufferers  from  the  intermeddling. 

In  "Georgia — Land  and  People,"  by  Miss  Frances  Letcher 
Mitchell,  we  read: 

One  of  the  striking  evidences  of  harmony  between  the  sisterhood  of 
States  was  the  ceding  of  their  western  lands  to  the  Federal  government. 
In  this  surrender  of  territory  Georgia,  then  the  largest  State  in  the  Union, 
gave  up  almost  one  hundred  thousand  square  miles,  embracing  all  the  land 
lying  between  the  Chattahoochee  and  the  Mississippi  Rivers.  This  territory 
afterwards  formed  the  two  noble  States,  Alabama  and  Mississippi,  which 

51 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


are  called  "the  daughters  of  Georgia."  One  of  the  objects  of  this  grant  of 
land  was  to  enable  the  Federal  government  to  obtain  money  by  its  sale 
for  paying  off  the  national  debt  contracted  during  the  war.  In  return,  as 
a  slight  compensation  to  Georgia,  the  Federal  government  agreed  to  pay 
all  expenses  of  holding  treaties  with  the  Creeks  and  Cherokees  and  final- 
ly to  extinguish  the  Indian  title  to  all  lands  within  our  State  as  early  as 
it  could  be  peaceably  done. 

The  following  is  taken  from  Knight's  "Georgia's  Land- 
marks, Memorials,  and  Legends": 

The  discovery  of  gold  in  North  Georgia  operated  as  a  spur  to  hasten 
the  departure  of  the  Cherokees  toward  the  West.  It  created  an  eagerness 
on  the  part  of  the  white  population  to  possess  themselves  of  the  red  man's 
home  among  the  mountains,  and  they  began  in  the  most  imperious  tones 
to  call  upon  the  government  to  redeem  the  old  agreement  of  1802.  The 
complications  of  the  following  years  were  only  the  material  symptoms  of 
this  same  gold  fever;  and  while  the  final  outcome  was  divinely  ordered  in 
furtherance  of  wise  ends,  it  was  destined  to  leave  a  scar  upon  our  history 
which  time  has  not  effaced. 

In  reference  to  this,  there  was  never  a  scar  nor  a  scab  in 
the  history  of  Georgia.  The  mention  of  the  old  agreement 
implicates  the  men  who  made  it,  Thomas  Jefferson  and  Gov. 
John  Milledge.  The  discovery  of  gold  in  Georgia  was  not 
thought  of  until  twenty-five  years  after  the  old  agreement. 

In  "Georgia  and  State  Rights,"  by  U.  B.  Philips,  we  read: 

In  July,  1829,  deposits  of  gold  were  found  in  the  northeastern  corner 
of  the  State,  and  the  news  rapidly  spread  that  the  fields  were  as  rich  as 
those  being  worked  in  North  Carolina.  As  soon  as  the  news  was  known 
to  be  authentic  there  came  a  rush  of  adventurers  into  the  gold  lands.  In 
the  summer  of  1830  there  were  probably  three  thousand  men  from  various 
States  digging  gold  in  Cherokee,  Georgia.  The  intrusion  of  these  miners 
into  the  Cherokee  territory  was  unlawful  under  the  enactments  of  three 
several  governments,  each  claiming  jurisdiction  over  the  region.  The 
United  States  laws  prohibited  any  one  from  settling  or  trading  on  Indian 
territory  without  a  special  license  from  the  proper  United  States  official. 
The  State  of  Georgia  had  extended  its  territory  over  the  Cherokee  lands, 

52 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


applying  them,  after  June  i,  1830,  to  Indians  as  well  as  to  white  men. 
The  Cherokee  Nation  had  passed  a  law  that  no  one  should  settle  or  trade 
on  their  lands  without  a  permit  from  their  officials.  A  conflict  of  author- 
ities was  imminent;  and  yet  at  that  time  no  one  of  the  three  governments, 
nor,  indeed,  all  of  them  combined,  had  sufficient  police  service  in  the  sec- 
tion to  check  the  great  disorder  which  prevailed.  The  government  of 
Georgia  was  the  first  of  the  three  to  make  any  efficient  attempt  to  meet 
the  emergency.  Governor  Gilmer  wrote  to  the  President  on  October  29, 
1830,  stating  that  the  Cherokee  lands  had  been  put  under  the  laws  of 
Georgia  and  asking  that  the  United  States  troops  be  withdrawn. 

This  was  on  the  line  that  divided  the  State  from  the  Indian 
Nation.  The  presence  of  this  crowd  was  a  menace  to  peace, 
prosperity,  and  person.  Their  Sabbaths  were  spent  in  battles 
royal.  To  control  them  United  States  troops  had  to  come  five 
hundred  miles  from  Charleston. 

Philips's  "Georgia  and  State  Rights,"  page  74,  says: 

The  attitude  of  the  judge  of  the  Georgia  Superior  Court,  who  had 
most  of  the  Cherokee  territory  in  his  circuit,  had  already  been  shown  in  a 
letter  which  he  (Judge  A.  S.  Clayton)  wrote  Governor  Gilmer  on  June  22, 
1830,  suggesting  a  request  to  the  President  for  the  withdrawal  of  the 
United  States  troops.  Nine  citizens  of  Hall  County  had  just  been  brought 
before  him  by  the  Federal  troops  for  trespassing  on  the  Cherokee  terri- 
tory. He  wrote :  "When  I  saw  the  honest  citizens  of  your  State  paraded 
through  the  streets  of  our  town  in  the  center  of  a  front  and  rear  guard 
of  regular  troops  belonging,  if  not  to  a  foreign,  at  least  to  another  gov- 
ernment, .  .  .  for  no  other  crime  than  that  of  going  upon  the  soil  of 
their  own  State,  ...  I  confess  to  you  I  never  so  distinctly  felt,  as 
strong  as  my  feelings  have  been  on  the  subject,  the  deep  humiliation  of 
our  condition  in  relation  to  the  exercise  of  power  on  the  part  of  the 
general  government  within  the  jurisdiction  of  Georgia." 

To  remedy  this  evil,  Gilmer  called  the  Legislature  together, 
the  laws  were  extended  over  the  territory,  and  the  State  had 
power  to  control  its  own  bailiwick. 

At  that  time  there  were  two  political  parties  of  the  Indians, 
one  headed  by  John  Ross  and  the  other  by  Major  Ridge.    The 

53 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


Ross  party,  an  enemy  to  Georgia,  was  against  removal.  The 
Ridge  party  loved  its  country  as  well  as  the  other  party  did, 
but  thought  it  better  for  its  people  to  go  West,  working  with 
the  government  and  Georgia  to  that  effect.  General  Jackson 
was  with  the  Ridge  party,  and  J.  O.  Adams  was  with  the  Ross 
party.  Mr.  Knight,  in  his  history,  sides  with  Adams. 
Knight's  "Georgia's  Landmarks,  Memorials,  and  Legends," 
page  171,  says: 

In  1802  there  was  a  compact  made  between  the  State  of  Georgia  and 
the  government  of  the  United  States  whereby  the  remaining  lands  of  the 
State  were  to  be  cleared  of  Indian  titles.  The  consideration  involved  was 
the  transfer  to  the  United  States  of  the  territory  now  embraced  within 
the  States  of  Alabama  and  Mississippi.  In  1819,  pursuant  to  this  agree- 
ment, the  Federal  authorities  secured  quite  a  strip  of  land  in  North  Geor- 
gia and  induced  a  number  of  Cherokees  voluntarily  to  remove  to  the  West, 
giving  them  acre  for  acre  by  way  of  fair  exchange  of  land.  Thereafter 
for  several  years  nothing  was  done.  In  the  meantime  the  Cherokees 
began  to  make  rapid  strides.  They  expected  no  further  molestation.  But 
just  as  they  were  entering  upon  an  epoch  of  civil  government  gold  was 
discovered  in  the  neighborhood  of  Dahlonega.  This  sounded  the  death 
knell  of  the  Cherokee.  Coincident  with  the  startling  news  in  regard  to 
the  yellow  metal,  there  emerged  still  another  factor  which  was  full  of 
menace  to  the  poor  Indians.  It  was  the  election  of  Gen.  Andrew  Jackson 
to  the  Presidency  of  the  United  States.  He  was  a  frontiersman  who 
possessed  little  patience  with  the  savages. 

This  is  extremely  erroneous  and  defamatory.  From  the 
days  of  Washington  to  the  days  of  Wilson  the  Indians  never 
had  a  better  friend.  Jackson  carried  out  the  treaty  made  by 
Jefferson.  How  did  he  do  this?  He  commenced  at  the  first 
of  his  term.  The  Indian  Territory  was  provided  for  the  In- 
dians during  his  administration  (1834).  In  this  they  were  to 
be  protected  by  their  guardian,  the  United  States.  Jackson 
not  only  did  this,  but  by  the  treaty  of  1835  he  gave  them  over 
two  years  to  move  voluntarily,  in  which  time  they  could  dis- 

54 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


pose  of  all  their  property.  There  were  enrolling  officers  to 
visit  their  cabins  to  pay  them  government  prices  for  every 
clapboard,  every  fence  rail,  and  every  hoof  of  stock.  All  who 
had  enrolled  had  presented  to  them  a  Schemmerhorn  blanket. 
They  received  two  acres  of  land  in  Indian  Territory  for  one 
in  Georgia  and  also  a  year's  supplies.  The  time  of  their  re- 
moval was  to  be  in  the  mildest  season.  If  they  were  not  gone 
at  the  end  of  the  time  given,  the  collecting  was  tO'  begin  on 
May  24,  1838.  By  July  all  were  to  be  out  of  the  State,  and 
by  October  i  they  were  to  have  reached  their  destination.  As 
for  Presidents  Adams  and  Jackson,  Philips,  in  his  "Georgia 
and  State  Rights,"  says  that  Jackson  readily  conceded  all  that 
Adams  had  struggled  to  deny  Georgia. 

From  Knight's  "Georgia's  Landmarks,  Memorials,  and  Leg- 
ends," page  172,  I  quote  as  follows: 

The  presence  of  white  men  in  the  Cherokee  Nation  was  a  constant 
source  of  annoyance,  especially  to  the  State  authorities.  As  early  as  1830 
Georgia  extended  her  jurisdiction  over  the  Cherokee  territory,  and  there 
followed  quite  a  chapter  of  incidents.  It  was  necessary  to  put  even  mis- 
sionaries under  arrest,  for  there  were  not  a  few  malicious  characters  who 
assumed  the  guise  of  religion  in  order  to  poison  the  minds  of  the  savages 
and  to  sow  broadcast  the  seeds  of  discord.  More  than  one  conflict  between 
the  State  and  Federal  governments  occurred  at  this  crisis. 

The  following  is  taken  from  the  Atlanta  C onstitiUion : 

Were  missionaries  put  under  arrest  by  the  State  of  Georgia?  Knight 
says,  "Yes";  Cotter  says,  "No."  Throughout  Georgia  much  interest  will 
attach  to  the  controversy  that  has  arisen  between  Rev.  W.  J.  Cotter,  of 
Newnan,  Georgia,  and  Lucian  Lamar  Knight,  Compiler  of  Records  for  the 
State.  Mr.  Knight's  statement  that  "missionaries  were  arrested  in  Geor- 
gia" has  led  Mr.  Cotter  to  enter  a  vigorous  denial  of  the  statement,  with  an 
explanation  of  what  he  declares  were  the  circumstances  surrounding  the 
arrest  of  "violators  of  the  law."  Replying  to  Mr.  Cotter's  communication, 
Mr.  Knight  declares  that  he  is  prepared  to  cite  proof  of  the  statement  that 
missionaries  have  been  arrested  in  this  State.     He  disclaims  any  intention 

55 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


of  writing  anything  defamatory  of  the  State  and  declares  that  in  writing 
the  history  he  has  made  an  effort  to  rescue  from  oblivion  many  important 
records  which  were  in  danger  of  perishing.  The  controversy  is  based  on 
a  unique  happening  in  the  early  part  of  Georgia's  history,  when  the  State 
was  dealing  with  the  Indians  and  efforts  were  being  made  to  control  them. 
Mr.  Cotter's  letter  follows: 

"Newnan,  Georgia,  January  lo,  1917. 

"Editor  Constitution:  In  the  Constitution  of  the  25th  of  December  it  is 
stated  that  Mr.  L.  L.  Knight  is  to  prepare  a  history  of  Georgia  for  a 
Northern  company. 

"There  are  things  in  the  author's  history  that  ought  to  be  corrected,  as 
they  are  far  from  the  truth  and  are  defamatory  to  the  State.  He  says 
missionaries  were  put  under  arrest.  This  is  utterly  untrue.  Let  us  have  a 
word  about  these  missionaries.  By  whom  were  they  permitted  to  come 
into  the  State?  First,  they  obtained  permission  of  the  Indian  chiefs,  then 
permission  of  the  State,  that  they  might  be  protected.  The  locaHty  of  the 
mission  was  at  New  Echota.  Why  were  they  licensed  by  the  State?  It 
was  to  protect  the  Indians  from  impostors  of  every  kind  and  to  advance 
their  civilization.  All  professionals  had  to  have  licenses — millwrights, 
master  mechanics,  and  ministers. 

"The  reason  for  this  was  that  the  nation  had  become  a  refuge  for 
thieves,  murderers,  old  Tories  of  the  Revolution,  and  men  who  had  left 
their  wives  and  children  and  taken  up  with  Indian  squaws.  The  Indians 
could  not  correct  these  evils,  and  it  was  necessary  for  the  State  to  extend 
her  laws  and  protect  herself. 

"The  missionaries  came,  say,  about  1815.  There  were  two  political 
parties  of  the  Indians— one  headed  by  John  Ross,  the  other  by  Major  Ridge. 
The  Ross  party  was  against  the  removal  of  the  Indians,  were  bitter  ene- 
mies of  the  State,  and  did  all  they  could  against  the  Federal  authorities, 
that  were  in  favor  of  the  removal.  The  Ridge  party  thought  it  best  for 
them  to  move  and  were  in  favor  with  the  Federal  party,  that  was  for 
removal. 

"The  missionary  station  became  a  hotbed  of  politics.  In  1826  the  con- 
stitution and  laws  of  the  Cherokees  were  concocted,  and  everj^hing  points 
to  the  fact  that  the  missionaries  dictated  every  word  of  them.  They  were 
the  most  capable  men  of  the  party  to  do  such  a  thing  and  to  do  everything 
offensive  to  the  State  and  also  everything  that  was  derogatory  to  the 
State  and  its  people. 

56 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


"John  Q.  Adams  was  President  and  was  in  accord  with  every  one  of 
these  things.  From  Washington  to  Wilson,  he  was  the  bitterest  enemy  to 
the  State  that  ever  occupied  the  chair.  When  the  State  extended  her  au- 
thority, these  missionaries  led  indignation  meetings,  denouncing  the  acts 
of  the  Legislature.  They  were  not  only  violators  of  the  law,  but  they 
defied  the  State.  The  court  records  of  Charles  Dougherty  and  Smith 
Clayton  will  prove  what  is  here  said.  I  saw  these  sallow  men  with  frown- 
ing faces  when  they  were  under  arrest.  Rev.  W.  J.  Cotter." 

The  reply  of  Mr.  Knight  is  as  follows : 

"Editor  Constitution:  Rev.  W.  J.  Cotter  calls  me  to  task  for  saying  that 
missionaries  were  arrested  in  Georgia  and  asks  me  to  cite  proof.  This  I 
am  prepared  to  do.  Not  only  were  missionaries  arrested,  but  one  of  the 
most  celebrated  cases  before  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  grew 
out  of  the  arrest  of  these  missionaries.  To  establish  the  truth  of  this 
statement  I  cite  the  following  authorities :  White's  'Historical  Collections 
of  Georgia,'  page  140;  Nile's  'Register,'  Volume  XL.,  page  296,  Volume 
XLL,  page  176;  Golmer's  'Georgians,'  pages  414,  536;  Georgia  Journal, 
September  29,  1831,  October  6,  1831,  and  December  5,  1831;  and  'Georgia 
and  State  Rights,'  by  U.  B.  Philips,  pages  78-80. 

"Dr.  Philips  tells  of  the  arrest  of  these  missionaries  as  follows :  'An 
act  of  the  Georgia  Legislature  approved  December  22,  1830,  made  it  un- 
lawful for  white  people  to  reside  in  the  Cherokee  territory  of  Georgia 
without  having  taken  an  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  State  and  without  a 
license  from  the  State  authorities.  This  law  was  directed  primarily 
against  the  intruding  gold  miners,  but  the  message  of  the  Governor  had 
stated  the  expediency  of  considering  all  white  persons  as  intruders.  The 
law  was  accordingly  made  one  of  sweeping  appHcation. 

"  'There  were  at  the  time  residing  among  the  Cherokees  twelve  or  more 
Christian  missionaries  and  assistants,  some  of  them  maintained  by  the 
American  Board  of  Foreign  Missions.  These  men  were  already  suspected 
of  interfering  in  political  matters  and  would  probably  have  been  made  to 
feel  the  weight  of  the  law  without  inviting  attention  to  themselves,  but 
they  did  not  passively  await  this  action.  They  held  a  meeting  at  New 
Echota  on  December  29,  1830,  in  which  they  passed  resolutions  protesting 
against  the  extension  of  the  laws  of  Georgia  over  the  Indians  and  assert- 
ing what  they  considered  the  removal  of  the  Cherokees  an  event  most 
earnestly  to  be  deprecated. 

"  'After  sufficient  time  had  elapsed  for  the  intruders  to  have  taken  their 

57 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


departure,  if  so  disposed,  the  Georgia  guard  for  the  Cherokee  territory 
arrested  such  white  men  as  were  found  unlawfully  therein.  Among  the 
number  arrested  were  two  missionaries,  Messrs.  Worcester  and  Thomp- 
son. On  writ  of  habeas  corpus  they  were  taken  before  the  Superior  Court 
of  Gwinnett  County,  where  their  writ  was  passed  upon  by  Judge  Clayton. 
Their  counsel  pleaded  for  their  release  on  the  ground  of  the  unconstitu- 
tionality of  the  law  of  Georgia.  The  Judge  granted  their  release,  but 
did  so  upon  the  ground  that  they  were  agents  of  the  United  States,  since 
they  were  expending  the  United  States  fund  for  civilizing  the  Indians. 
Governor  Gilmer  then  sent  inquiries  to  Washington  to  learn  whether  the 
missionaries  were  recognized  agents  of  the  government.  The  reply  was 
received  that  as  missionaries  they  were  not  government  agents,  but  that 
Mr.  Worcester  was  United  States  minister  at  New  Echota.  President 
Jackson,  upon  request  from  Georgia,  removed  Mr.  Worcester  from  that 
office  in  order  to  render  him  amenable  to  the  laws  of  the  State.  The 
Cherokee  Phanix,  a  newspaper  and  organ  of  the  nation,  expressed  out- 
raged feelings  on  the  part  of  the  Indians  at  the  combination  of  State  and 
Federal  authorities  against  them. 

"  'The  Governor  wrote  Mr.  Worcester  on  May  i6  advising  his  removal 
from  the  State  to  avoid  arrest.  On  May  28  Col.  J.  W.  A.  Sanford,  com- 
mander of  the  Georgia  guard,  wrote  each  of  the  missionaries  that  at  the 
end  of  ten  days  he  would  arrest  them  if  found  upon  Cherokee  territory  in 
Georgia.  Notwithstanding  an  address  to  the  Governor  in  justification  of 
their  conduct,  they  were  arrested  by  the  guard.  Those  arrested  were :  The 
Rev.  Samuel  A.  Worcester,  the  Rev.  Elizur  Butler,  and  the  Rev.  James 
Trott,  missionaries,  with  eight  other  white  men,  for  illegal  residence  in 
the  territory.  Their  trial  came  on  in  the  September  term  of  the  Gwinnett 
County  Superior  Court.  They  were  found  guilty  and  on  September  15 
were  each  sentenced  to  four  years'  confinement  at  hard  labor  in  the  State 
penitentiary.  But  pardon  and  freedom  were  offered  to  each  by  the  Gov- 
ernor on  condition  of  taking  an  oath  of  allegiance  or  promising  to  leave 
the  territory.  Nine  of  the  prisoners  availed  themselves  of  this  executive 
clemency;  but  Worcester  and  Butler  chose  rather  to  go  to  the  penitentiary, 
intending  to  test  their  case  before  the  Supreme  Court. 

"  'The  cases  of  Worcester  and  Butler,  who  refused  the  Governor's  con- 
ditions for  pardon,  were  appealed  to  the  United  States  Supreme  Court, 
from  which  a  writ  of  error  was  issued  October  27,  1831.' 

"Meanwhile  Wilson  Lumpkin  had  become  Governor.     The  hearing  on 

58 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


the  writ  of  error  in  Worcester's  case  came  up  before  the  Supreme  Court 
during  the  course  of  the  year  1832.  It  was  argued  for  the  plaintiff  by 
Messrs.  Sergeant,  Wirt,  and  Chester.  Georgia  refused  to  appear.  The 
decision  rendered  by  Chief  Justice  Marshall  was  adverse  to  the  State.  It 
held  that  the  Cherokee  Nation  was  a  distinct  community  over  which  the 
laws  of  Georgia  could  not  be  extended  and  that  the  judgment  of  the 
State  Court,  therefore,  should  be  reversed.  This  seemed  to  be  a  victory 
for  the  Indians,  but  they  rejoiced  too  soon.  President  Jackson  refused  to 
enforce  the  judgment  of  the  Supreme  Court.  He  intimated  that  since 
John  Marshall  had  rendered  his  decision  he  might  enforce  it.  Of  course 
the  Chief  Justice  had  no  authority  beyond  stating  what  he  thought  right  in 
the  case.  Worcester  and  Butler  remained  at  hard  labor  in  the  Georgia 
penitentiary,  and  the  Cherokee  chiefs  began  at  length  to  realize  that  no 
recourse  was  left  them  against  the  tyranny  of  the  State. 

"As  far  as  the  two  missionaries  were  concerned,  they  felt  that  their 
martyrdom  had  been  sufficiently  long  and  adopted  the  course  of  conciliat- 
ing the  State  in  order  to  secure  their  liberation.  They  informed  the  At- 
torney-General of  Georgia  on  January  8,  1833,  that  they  had  instructed 
their  counsel  to  prosecute  their  case  no  further  in  the  Supreme  Court. 
Appreciating  this  change  of  attitude,  Governor  Lumpkin  pardoned  both 
of  them  January  10  on  the  same  conditions  that  he  had  offered  them  some 
months  before  and  ordered  their  release  from  prison. 

"These  are  the  facts.  The  records  to  substantiate  them  are  here  in  the 
capitol.  Mr.  Cotter  is,  I  understand,  in  his  ninety-first  year.  I  would 
not  wound  the  feelings  of  this  aged  gentleman.  I  respect  not  only  his 
white  locks,  but  his  high  calling.  He  must  have  lived  a  temperate,  clean, 
beautiful,  and  wholesome  life  to  have  been  spared  so  long.  It  is  a  matter 
of  keen  regret  to  me  that  I  do  not  know  Mr.  Cotter.  There  is  much  I 
could  learn  from  him  of  Georgia's  history,  much  I  would  love  to  hear  him 
tell.  But  even  the  clearest  memory  is  sometimes  at  fault  when  long  years 
have  intervened. 

"What  I  have  written  in  regard  to  the  Cherokees  I  have  gathered  from 
official  accounts  and  from  contemporaneous  records.  Much  of  the  infor- 
mation which  I  have  found  relative  to  the  removal  of  the  Indians  has 
been  obtained  from  a  government  report  prepared  by  James  Mooney,  of  the 
Bureau  of  Ethnology,  and  published  as  Volume  CXVIIL,  Senate  Docu- 
ments. I  am  not  proof  against  error,  but  I  have  never  written  a  syllable 
defamatory  of  my  native  State.  If  I  have  told  some  unpleasant  things,  I 
have  told  others  of  a  far  different  nature,  and  I  have  tried  to  rescue  from 

59 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


oblivion  many  important  records  which  were  in  danger  of  perishing.  It  is 
no  defamation  of  Georgia's  good  name  to  state  facts.  She  did  perfectly 
right  to  arrest  men  who  were  defying  her  laws,  even  though  they  wore 
religion's  cloak.  These  missionaries  ought  to  have  been  arrested,  for  in- 
stead of  doing  missionary  work  they  were  intermeddling.  I  hope  Mr.  Cot- 
ter and  I  will  not  quarrel.  We  have  too  much  in  common.  I  want  him  to 
be  not  only  Georgia's  friend,  but  mine.  Lucian  Lamar  Knight, 

Atlanta,  Georgia,  January  21,  1916.  Compiler  of  Records." 

These  are  the  only  men  who  ever  sowed  the  seeds  of  dis- 
cord. They  were  not  arrested  as  missionaries,  but  because 
they  had  defied  the  law.  There  is  no  mention  that  they  were 
arrested  as  missionaries.  There  cannot  be  found  in  any  legal 
authority  in  Georgia  a  sentence  pertaining  to  such  an  arrest. 
Take  the  case  of  a  deacon  who  was  convicted  of  horse-steal- 
ing and  served  his  time  in  the  penitentiary.  It  would  be  just 
as  truthful  to  say  that  deacons  were  arrested.  I  saw  that 
deacon  many  times  before  and  after  he  left  the  penitentiary. 

I  leave  it  for  all  fair-minded  readers  to  decide.  Follow  the 
case  up  to  the  United  States  Supreme  Court,  as  well  as  the 
case  brought  before  Chief  Justice  Marshall,  when  the  colonial 
rights  of  the  country  were  called  in  question.  There  was  nev- 
er a  greater  farce  in  any  court.  If  Adams  had  been  President, 
the  decision  would  have  been  signed;  but  without  the  Presi- 
dent's signature  it  had  nO'  force  whatever.  But  President 
Jackson  said:  "Let  John  Marshall  carry  it  out."  According 
to  Marcius  Wilson's  "American  History,"  Jackson  said  that 
he  himself  "had  no  power  to  oppose  the  exercise  of  the  sov- 
ereignty of  any  State  over  all  who  may  be  within  its  limits," 
and  he  therefore  advised  them  to  "abide  the  issue  of  such  new 
relations  without  any  hope  that  he  will  interfere." 

Let  it  be  added  here  that  Jackson  is  called  a  frontiersman. 
He  had  been  about  a  little. 

60 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


"He  had  been  down  to  Cypress  Swamp, 
Where  the  ground  was  low  and  mucky; 
There  stood  John  Bull  in  martial  pomp, 
And  here  was  'Old  Kentucky.'  " 

And  "Old  Hickory"  too.  He  had  been  Governor  of  Florida, 
had  represented  the  State  of  Tennessee  in  the  House  and  in 
the  Senate,  had  been  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Tennes- 
see, and  was  President  of  the  United  States  for  eight  years. 
He  was  fair-minded  with  all  the  States  and  in  accord  with  the 
leaders  of  Georgia — Gilmer,  Lumpkin,  and  others.  He  had 
great  respect  for  religion.  When  a  preacher  went  to  him  for 
an  appointment,  he  said  he  couldn't  give  it,  for  the  preacher 
had  a  higher  calling  than  he  could  give. 

Though  Adams  had  put  a  shield  manual  on  one  of  those 
missionaries,  protecting  him  against  the  laws  of  the  State, 
Jackson  inquired  of  Governor  Gilmer  about  the  case  and  then 
removed  him  from  his  postmastership,  giving  the  State  the 
right  to  defend  herself  and  enforce  her  own  laws. 

As  to  the  presence  of  the  white  men  being  an  annoyance  to 
the  State,  this  is  neither  truth  nor  justice.  Who  are  the  au- 
thorities of  the  State?  The  legislative,  the  judicial,  the  exec- 
utive, the  coordinate  branch  represented  by  the  Senate,  and 
all  those  behind  the  great  body  of  constituents.  Nothing 
more  was  desired  than  the  presence  of  white  men  in  that  ter- 
ritory at  that  time.  Of  course  white  men  as  outlaws  were  a 
menace.  Just  as  soon  as  it  could  be  done,  provision  was  made 
to  fill  the  land  with  white  men.  Lands  were  surveyed  and 
numbered.  Tickets  were  placed  in  a  large  hopper,  the  crank 
of  which  was  turned  by  Rev.  James  B.  Payne,  a  young  local 
preacher,  who  became  a  prominent  minister  and  was  presiding 
elder  over  the  Cherokee  District.    His  remains  rest  at  Thom- 

6i 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


aston,  Georgia.  When  on  my  only  visit  to  that  place,  one 
morning  bright  and  early,  while  the  dewdrops  on  the  grass 
were  shining  like  diamonds,  with  hat  in  hand,  I  stood  at  his 
grave  and  thanked  the  Lord  for  this  man's  friendship  to  me 
and  for  his  great  and  useful  life. 

Georgia,  noble  and  just  to  rich  and  poor,  did  not  open  a 
land  office  and  price  the  land  from  ten  cents  to  ten  dollars  an 
acre.  The  land  was  laid  off  in  lots  of  one  hundred  and  sixty 
acres  each,  and  in  the  gold  region  forty  acres.  So  the  for- 
tunate drawer,  whether  a  poor  widow  or  an  old  soldier,  had 
an  equal  chance  for  the  richest  gold  land  or  the  richest  farm 
land.  I  saw  the  surveyors  running  the  lines  that  divided  the 
lots.    At  once  the  white  population  poured  in. 

As  to  the  notorious  missionaries  that  were  under  arrest,  in 
the  histories  of  all  Protestant  denominations  there  is  not  a 
parallel  to  what  they  did.  "Let  every  soul  be  subject  unto 
the  higher  powers.  For  there  is  no  power  but  of  God:  the 
powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  God.  Whosoever  therefore 
resisteth  the  power,  resisteth  the  ordinance  of  God:  and  they 
that  resist  shall  receive  to  themselves  damnation."  (Rom. 
xiii.  I,  2.)  "Put  them  in  mind  to  be  subject  tO'  principalities 
and  powers,  to  obey  magistrates,  to  be  ready  to  every  good 
work."  (Titus  iii.  i.)  How  is  this  for  resisting  the  laws  of 
the  State  and  of  the  United  States?  What  must  be  thought  of 
the  missionary  boards  that  were  supporting  them?  The  mis- 
sion on  which  they  came  to  the  State  has  already  been  de- 
scribed. Going  up  the  stream  of  history  to  find  its  source,  if 
these  men  did  not  start  what  has  been  written  in  history,  who 
did?  They  were  capable  and  had  backing.  What  they  start- 
ed is  in  the  histories  of  Georgia  to  this  day. 

After  this  bold  insult  to  the  State,  Governor  Gilmer  called 

62 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


the  Legislature  together.  An  act  was  passed  forbidding  mis- 
sionaries to  hold  any  national  assembly  in  the  State.  The 
councils  were  held  at  Red  Clay,  just  over  the  line  in  Tennes- 
see. It  is  known  as  the  Old  Council  Ground,  about  fifteen 
miles  north  of  Dalton.  To  permit  them  to  hold  their  councils 
there  was  not  a  friendly  act  upon  the  part  of  a  sister  State. 
Chief  Ross  found  a  harbor  there,  and  this  brought  about  a 
conflict  between  Governor  Lumpkin,  of  Georgia,  and  the  Gov- 
ernor of  Tennessee.  I  can't  explain  how  much  politics  was 
involved  in  this. 

It  may  be  well  to  say  here  something  about  the  long  delay 
from  1802  till  1838.  Following  Jefferson,  Madison  was  Pres- 
ident for  the  next  eight  years.  He  was  in  full  accord  with 
Jefferson  and  aided  in  securing  the  Louisiana  Purchase.  He 
was  in  the  midst  of  a  storm  center  the  entire  eight  years.  The 
War  of  181 2,  troubles  with  France  and  other  foreign  powers, 
and  the  Hartford  Convention  showed  that  all  was  not  harmo- 
nious at  home.  The  next  eight  years  Monroe  was  President. 
He  was  against  Georgia  and  sided  with  the  Indians.  John  O. 
Adams  served  the  next  four  years.  There  were  twelve  years 
against  Georgia,  which  delayed  the  removal  of  the  Indians. 
Then  came  Jackson,  the  best  friend  the  Indians  ever  had  and 
equally  as  good  a  friend  to  Georgia.  He  heartily  support- 
ed her  able  Governor  and  others.  That  great  Indian  Ter- 
ritory, bounded  on  the  north  by  Missouri,  on  the  east  by 
Arkansas,  on  the  south  by  Texas,  and  on  the  west  by  all  that 
great  Western  land,  was  provided  as  a  permanent  home  for 
the  Indians.  This  move  he  commenced  during  the  first  of  his 
term.  The  treaty  completing  it  was  made  the  latter  part  of  his 
term.  It  is  due  that  great  Senator,  Thomas  A.  Benton,  of 
Missouri,  that  he  stood  by  Jackson  against  Clay  and  Calhoun. 

63 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


The  last  time  this  question  was  discussed  in  Congress  there 
was  a  committee  appointed  by  both  houses,  and  Benton  was 
made  chairman.  In  the  last  words  of  the  final  report  Georgia 
was  justified  in  all  her  claims  founded  upon  the  treaty  made 
by  Jefferson  in  1802. 

Let  us  have  a  brief  review  of  the  whole  question.  Missis- 
sippi had  been  admitted  in  181 5  and  had  been  a  State  twenty- 
one  years,  Alabama  had  been  admitted  in  18 19  and  had  been 
a  State  nineteen  years.  Georgia  had  been  kept  out  of  her 
rights  for  thirty-six  years.  It  was  Georgia's  "ox  that  was 
gored"  all  this  time.  So  Georgia  contributed  more  to  the 
Federal  government  in  ceding  so  much  territory  and  in  using 
money  to  pay  off  the  old  war  debt  than  any  other  State.  In 
1760  Virginia  drove  the  Cherokees  from  her  borders,  more 
than  seventy  years  before  they  left  Georgia.  In  1776  General 
Rutherford  drove  them  from  North  Carolina,  and  about  the 
same  time  General  Sevier  drove  them  from  Tennessee.  His- 
tory says  of  the  colony  of  Massachusetts,  the  home  of  the 
Adamses,  that  the  foundation  was  laid  with  the  bones  and 
cemented  with  the  blood  of  the  aborigines.  It  is  often  quoted 
that  Chief  Justice  Marshall  sided  with  the  Indians  against 
Georgia.  Jackson  treated  this  with  contempt,  as  it  deserved. 
It  is  the  only  instance  in  which  the  colonial  rights  of  any  State 
have  been  called  in  question,  and  such  a  case  would  be  kicked 
out  of  any  court,  high  or  low. 

I  repeat  again  that  it  is  the  joy  of  my  heart  that  I  have 
lived  to  defend  the  honor  of  General  Scott  and  all  the  good 
men  with  him.  I  feel  sure  that  the  descendants  of  them,  down 
to  the  third  and  fourth  generations,  will  appreciate  and  thank 
me  for  it. 

64 


CHAPTER  VIII 

BouDiNOT,  Ross,  Vann,  Howard  Payne,  and  the  Old 
Federal  Road 

]\ /TORE  than  one  hundred  years  ago,  in  the  heart  of  the  na- 
tion, on  the  Coosawattee,  there  was  born  an  Indian  boy, 
and  this  baby  Indian  possessed  a  great  mind.  Diamonds  are 
found  in  yellow  dirt,  but  by  the  skilled  lapidary  they  are  made 
to  sparkle.  The  darkness  of  ages  of  heathendom  had  almost 
frozen  the  genial  current  of  his  soul;  but  under  his  yellow 
skin  was  a  diamond  mind  of  the  first  water,  and  in  some  way 
a  faint  spark  of  light  shone  upon  his  intellect,  and  as  it  in- 
creased he  was  led  to  the  mission  school  at  Cornwell,  in  Con- 
necticut. There,  by  close  application,  he  was  develoi>ed  into 
a  high  state  of  intellectual  and  moral  culture  and  commended 
himself  to  the  wise  and  good.  He  asked  of  Mr.  Boudinot, 
the  first  President  of  the  American  Bible  Society,  if  he  might 
assume  his  name,  and  the  request  was  granted.  He  won  and 
wedded  Miss  Harriet  Gold,  of  an  excellent  family.  Such  mar- 
riages since  the  day  of  Rolfe  and  Pocahontas  have  not  been 
taboo.  To-day  the  President's  wife  is  traced  to  that  noble 
blood. 

This  noble  Indian  came  back  at  once  to  help  his  own  people, 
and  he  was  successful  in  many  ways.  He  became  the  editor  in 
chief  of  the  Cherokee  Phoenix,  lived  in  a  commodious  house, 
and  was  visited  by  some  of  the  best  people  in  the  State,  espe- 
cially from  Washington,  Georgia.  The  newspapers  of  that 
day  teemed  with  praises  on  the  noble  hospitality  of  this  great 
social  center.  Boudinot's  faithful  wife  was  truly  his  help- 
meet in  all  his  work ;  but  she  died  in  1836,  taken  from  the  evil 
5  65 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


to  come,  as  the  sequel  will  tell.  Her  grave  is  well  marked  at 
New  Echota.  In  1838  Boudinot  went  with  his  people  to  their 
new  home  in  the  West.  While  working  to  build  a  house  for 
his  motherless  children  in  1839,  in  savage  revenge  he  was  cut 
to  pieces  with  knives.  On  the  same  day  Major  Ridge  and  his 
son  John  were  killed  because  they  favored  removal  to  the 
West.  So  Boudinot  died  as  a  martyr  to  his  people.  His  son, 
Elias  Cornelius  Boudinot,  was  a  lieutenant  colonel  in  the 
Confederate  army,  loyal  to  the  land  of  his  fathers. 

John  Ross,  head  of  the  chiefs,  was  bom  in  Georgia,  ten 
miles  from  Chattanooga,  in  1790.  His  father  was  a  Scotch- 
man, his  mother  half  Scotch  and  half  Indian.  He  was  edu- 
cated at  Kingston,  then  the  capital  of  Tennessee.  When  a 
young  man  of  about  twenty-five,  he  was  made  a  chief.  For 
years  his  residence  was  where  Rome,  Georgia,  now  stands. 
He  headed  his  letters,  "The  Cherokee  Nation,  at  the  Head  of 
the  Coosa."  He  was  regarded  as  Georgia's  greatest  enemy, 
and  she  had  no  friendship  for  him.  He  moved  into  Tennes- 
see in  1835,  J^^st  over  the  line,  not  far  from  the  Old  Council 
Ground.  I  saw  him  that  year.  He  was  dark.  If  he  had 
been  a  blonde,  his  Cherokee  blood  would  not  have  been  noticed. 
He  was  a  man  of  large  brain  and  strong  will. 

From  Knight's  "Georgia's  Landmarks,  Memorials,  and  Leg- 
ends," page  181,  I  take  the  following: 

On  June  22,  1839,  Major  Ridge,  his  son  John  Ridge,  and  Elias  Boudi- 
not suffered  the  penalty  of  having  advocated  the  removal  of  the  Indians 
to  the  West.  It  was  in  the  midst  of  great  political  excitement  that  the 
threefold  act  of  murder  was  perpetrated,  but  the  evidence  shows  that  the 
whole  affair  was  deliberately  planned.  The  report  made  by  the  Indian 
agent  to  the  Secretary  of  War  two  days  after  the  occurrence  gives  the 
following  particulars :  "The  murder  of  Boudinot  was  treacherous  and 
cruel.     He  was  assisting  some  workmen  in  building  a  new  house.     Three 

66 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


men  called  upon  him  and  asked  for  medicine.  He  went  off  with  them  in 
the  direction  of  Worcester's,  the  missionary  who  keeps  medicine,  about 
three  hundred  yards  from  Boudinot's.  When  they  were  about  halfway, 
two  of  the  men  seized  Boudinot,  and  the  other  stabbed  him,  after  which 
the  three  cut  him  to  pieces  with  knives  and  tomahawks.  This  murder 
having  occurred  within  two  miles  of  the  residence  of  John  Ross,  his 
friends  were  apprehensive  that  it  might  be  charged  to  his  connivance,  and 
at  this  moment  there  are  six  hundred  armed  Cherokees  around  the  dwell- 
ing of  Ross,  assembled  for  his  protection." 

There  is  not  a  drop  of  ignoble  blood  in  the  veins  of  the  Cher- 
okees. They  are  capable  of  the  highest  cultivation  of  intellect 
and  morals.  In  proof  of  this  they  have  advanced  in  civiliza- 
tion till  they  are  now  denationalized  and  are  bona  fide  citizens 
of  the  United  States,  entitled  to  all  the  privileges  of  citizen- 
ship. 

Referring  again  to  history,  the  arrest  of  John  Howard 
Payne  and  Chief  Ross,  we  read  the  following  in  "Georgia's 
Landmarks,  Memorials,  and  Legends,"  page  172: 

To  escape  persecution  at  home,  John  Ross  transferred  his  residence  to 
Tennessee.  But  one  day  he  was  put  under  arrest  and  brought  back  to 
Georgia.  His  papers  were  also  seized.  John  Howard  Payne,  the  famous 
author  of  "Home,  Sweet  Home,"  then  an  obscure  investigator  who  was 
gathering  scientific  data  among  the  Cherokees,  was  at  this  time  the  guest 
of  the  fugitive  chief.  But  the  hostile  Indians  were  no  respecters  of  per- 
sons. He  was  given  the  hospitalities  of  the  blockhouse,  in  company  with 
his  host,  and  detained  for  several  days,  until  his  innocence  could  be  estab- 
lished. 

Payne  was  a  gifted  tragedian.  When  he  was  about  twenty 
he  went  to  London,  remaining  there  for  about  twenty  years 
and  winning  great  applause.  But  he  was  not  a  successful 
financier.  On  a  cold  winter  night,  walking  through  the  mud- 
dy streets  of  London,  he  saw  through  a  lattice  in  a  home  a 
blazing  fire  and  a  young  lady  playing  a  Sicilian  air.  Return- 
ing to  his  lodging,  which  was  either  a  bench  or  a  counter,  for 

67 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


which  he  had  paid  about  a  dime,  he  composed  the  immortal 
lyric,  "Home,  Sweet  Home."  In  a  short  time  more  than  one 
hundred  thousand  copies  were  published,  and  they  were  waft- 
ed to  various  lands.  That  brought  him  fame  and  fortune. 
He  soon  returned  home,  being  received  with  great  eclat.  As 
he  was  a  little  charmed  with  English  titles^ — sirs,  lords,  etc. — 
it  was  proper  for  him  to  see  Chief  Ross,  the  head  of  the  In- 
dian Nation.  He  had  come  to  Georgia  representing  a  New 
York  newspaper,  and  on  his  arrest  his  paper  was  examined. 
In  it  were  found  some  improper  things;  but  by  the  influence 
of  Colonel  Hardin,  of  Athens,  Georgia,  he  was  released  as 
soon  as  he  was  proved  innocent.  As  to  the  blockhouse,  it 
was  an  elegant  brick  mansion,  then  the  residence  of  Capt.  A. 
B.  Bishop.  The  Indians  had  nothing  to  do  with  this  arrest. 
In  his  report  Payne  with  his  poetic  spleen  unintentionally 
complimented  Captain  Bishop,  calling  him  the  "smooth  and 
silky  Absalom."  I  leave  it  to  the  reader  to  decide  whether 
this  arrest  was  a  reflection  upon  Governor  Lumpkin. 
In  "Student's  Reference  Work,"  on  page  1060,  we  read: 

The  author  of  "Home,  Sweet  Home"  had  no  home  for  the  last  forty 
years  of  his  life  and  died  in  a  foreign  land,  having  been  appointed  Amer- 
ican Consul  at  Tunis,  where  he  died  April  10,  1852.  His  remains  were 
brought  to  America  and  buried  at  Washington  in  1883. 

In  their  deepest  sorrow  poets  sing  out  their  sweetest  songs, 

".    .    .     like  the  plants  that  throw 
Their  fragrance  from  their  wounded  parts, 
Breathe  sweetness  out  of  woe." 

After  his  arrest  Mr.  Payne  heard  the  soldiers  singing 
"Home,  Sweet  Home."  He  convinced  them  that  he  was  the 
author,  and  every  one  of  them  became  his  friend.  In  a  short 
time  he  was  set  free.     One  of  the  soldiers,  John  Oats,  told 

68 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


me  of  the  arrest  of  Chief  Ross  and  Payne.  He  and  four  or 
five  others  were  detailed  to  make  the  arrest.  It  is  proper  here 
to  offer  a  word  of  criticism  upon  a  book  of  great  merit  by 
Miss  Rutherford.  She  says  some  uncharitable  and  untrue 
things  about  Mr.  Curry,  an  enrolling  agent,  having  something 
to  do  with  the  arrest.  She  is  wholly  mistaken.  What  she 
says  is  a  reflection  upon  Gov.  Wilson  Lumpkin.  He  was 
responsible  for  the  arrest  and  ordered  it.  Mr.  Knight  also 
has  a  remark  that  is  not  correct.  He  says  that  the  Chief  fled 
from  Georgia  on  account  of  persecution.  That  is  a  slander 
upon  Governor  Lumpkin. 

Now  it  affords  me  great  pleasure  to  offer  a  word  in 
commendation  of  Miss  Rutherford's  book,  "American  Au- 
thors." It  ought  to  be  in  all  public  libraries  and  in  every 
home  library  where  the  people  can  afford  it.  The  older 
readers  will  be  charmed  with  what  they  read  in  their  young- 
er days.  The  younger  ones  will  be  delighted,  and  it  will 
help  them  to  a  refined  and  elevated  taste  for  good  reading 
— yes,  more  than  anything  in  modem  novels.  She  has  col- 
lected in  pamphlet  form  "A  Hundred  Things  for  a  Better 
South."  It  is  sold  for  a  small  price  and  is  worth  its  weight 
in  gold  as  a  reference. 

Let  me  add  two  other  items.  Several  years  ago  at  the 
World's  Agricultural  Fair  the  best  specimen  of  wheat  in  the 
world  was  raised  in  Germany,  in  the  Valley  of  the  Rhine. 
The  next  best  specimen  was  raised  in  Floyd  County,  Georgia. 
At  another  World's  Fair  the  best  specimen  of  corn  in  the 
world  was  raised  in  Walker  County,  Georgia. 

Spring  Place  was  a  central  point.  In  1817  a  Moravian 
mission  was  established  there.  If  Joseph  Vann  was  not  its 
founder,  he  fostered  it,  gave  the  land,  and  assisted  in  the 

69 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


erection  of  the  buildings  on  a  beautiful  site.  The  comfortable, 
roomy  buildings  were  of  good  timber  well  prepared  and  well 
put  up.  A  nice  bake  oven  was  in  the  kitchen.  Near  by  from 
a  bluff  was  a  great  volume  of  the  best  cool  spring  water.  It 
is  likely  that  the  wealthy  McNair  family,  who  lived  not  many 
miles  away,  helped  in  fostering  the  school,  as  at  least  one 
daughter  was  educated  in  the  Moravian  school  at  Salem, 
North  Carolina. 

Many  of  the  mixed  bloods  sent  their  daughters  to  the  mis- 
sion at  Spring  Place,  and  so  did  many  of  the  leading  families 
of  the  whole  State.  The  members  of  the  mission  were  well 
received  and  exerted  a  good  influence,  taking  no  part  in  any- 
thing that  was  not  in  harmony  with  their  Christian  work. 
When  the  laws  of  the  State  were  extended  over  that  section, 
they  left  peaceably  in  1830  and  no  doubt  found  an  inviting 
field  for  their  work.  It  may  be  safely  said  that  Mrs.  Vann 
was  an  earnest  worker  in  all  that  was  done. 

Joseph  Vann,  about  six  feet  six  inches  in  height  and  of 
fine  appearance,  had  Cherokee  blood  in  his  veins.  He  owned 
quite  a  number  of  slaves.  His  negro  quarters  were  out 
four  miles,  at  Mill  Creek.  He  was  fond  of  fine  stock, 
particularly  fine  horses.  About  1800  to  1806  he  decided  to 
build  a  beautiful  home.  The  wealthy  mixed  bloods  could 
have  what  they  wanted,  and  that  of  the  best  from  Philadelphia 
or  Washington  City.  The  best  master  builder  was  engaged 
to  make  the  brick  and  build  the  house.  A  skilled  architect 
was  engaged  to  prepare  the  plan,  and  when  it  was  laid  before 
Mr.  Vann  and  the  builder  every  mark  on  the  profile  was 
plain.  It  was  a  handsome,  two-story  brick  building  with 
beautiful  surroundings. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  say  how  many  false  stories  have 

70 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


been  told  about  tbat  bouse.  One  is  tbat  Dave  Vann  built  it. 
He  was  a  man  of  very  bad  cbaracter.  Another  is  that  the 
bricks  were  made  in  Savannah ;  another,  that  the  bricks  were 
brought  from  Philadelphia.  The  truth  is  that  they  were  made 
about  four  hundred  yards  from  the  house.  I  have  seen  the 
old  brickyard  where  they  were  made.  Joseph  Vann  built  the 
house  and  lived  in  it  twenty-eight  years.  He  had  a  generous 
heart,  and  his  wife  was  indeed  his  better  half.  They  fostered 
the  Moravian  Mission,  one  of  the  best  in  the  Cherokee  Nation. 
It  is  claimed  that  the  first  convert  became  a  chief  and  was 
murdered  because  he  favored  moving  to  the  West. 

Not  many  years  after  Vann  left  a  battle  was  fought  in  the 
house  by  parties  contending  for  possession.  They  fought 
with  guns  and  knives,  some  being  upstairs  and  some  below. 
Much  blood  was  shed,  but  no  one  was  killed.  The  contending 
parties  were  Capt.  A.  B.  and  Col.  W.  N.  Bishop  and  Mr. 
Spencer  Riley.  Another  battle  was  fought  after  this  at  Mil- 
ledgeville.  When  Berry  Bishop  and  Riley  met,  they  com- 
menced to  fire.  Bishop  knocked  Riley  down  and  placed  the 
muzzle  of  his  pistol  at  his  ear,  but  the  gun  flashed  and  did 
not  fire.  This  ended  the  fighting  over  the  house  at  that  time. 
The  wives  of  the  Bishops  were  sisters  and  excellent  women. 
Capt.  A.  B.  Bishop  lived  in  the  Vann  house  and  Col.  W.  N. 
Bishop  in  the  mission  house.  The  wife  of  the  former  had 
been  our  near  neighbor.  In  my  boyhood  I  spent  nights  in 
both  houses. 

Spring  Place  was  for  years  the  arena  of  hard-fought  polit- 
ical battles,  the  Bishops  on  one  side  and  their  opponents  on 
the  other.  Years  afterwards  my  mother  visited  Spring  Place, 
was  attacked  with  fever,  and  had  a  long  spell  of  sickness  in 
the  brick  house.     Two  or  three  years  ago  I  was  honored  by 

71 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


the  Daughters  of  the  American  Revokition  with  an  invitation 
to  Spring  Place,  where  they  were  to  put  their  mark  on  the  old 
brick  house.  That  Chapter  is  known  as  the  Governor  Mil- 
ledge  Chapter,  Daughters  of  the  American  Revolution.  I 
have  not  seen  the  dear  old  place  since  1840. 

The  Old  Federal  Road  comes  out  of  Bradley  Coimty,  Ten- 
nessee, intOi  Murray  County,  Georgia,  running  south  on  the 
west  side  of  the  Cohutta  and  Coosawattee  Mountains  for,  say, 
seventy  miles,  then  turns  east  over  the  mountains  for  about 
seventy  miles  to  the  older  settlements  of  Georgia.  This  trail 
is  perhaps  two  or  three  hundred  years  old. 

The  Indians  had  very  narrow  paths,  walking  or  riding. 
They  went  in  single  file,  the  Indian  riding  on  his  pony,  with 
his  feet  nearly  touching  the  ground;  his  wife,  with  her  baby 
on  her  back,  walking  before  him.  They  had  good  sense  of 
direction,  and  their  trail  was  as  straight  as  a  surveyor's  line 
and  on  the  best  ground  for  a  road.  For  instance,  on  locating 
the  Atlanta  and  West  Point  Road  the  engineers  little  dreamed 
that  they  were  on  an  old  Indian  trail.  The  people  of  Coweta 
and  Troup  Counties  know  it  to  this  day  as  the  Grayson  Trail. 

For  years  the  Old  Federal  Road  was  the  darkest  and  most 
dangerous  place  in  the  old  Cherokee  Nation;  and  many  a 
marauding  band  went  from  here  to  murder,  plunder,  and  steal 
away  captives  from  the  frontier  settlers.  They  went  for  miles. 
Their  usual  time  was  at  the  full  of  the  moon,  in  the  fall  of  the 
year. 

The  light  of  civilization  was  beginning  to  shine  from  both 
sides  over  this  dark  domain.  First  from  East  Tennessee. 
That  section  was  first  settled  by  Virginians  and  North  Caro- 
linians, as  brave  and  noble  people  as  ever  lived.  No  braver 
men  fought  at  King's  Mountain  than  the  soldiers  from  that 

72 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


section.  John  Sevier  was  one  of  them.  That  battle  was  a 
pivot  on  which  victory  began  to  turn  and  was  a  prelude  to 
Comwallis's  surrender.  These  noble  people  in  East  Tennessee 
at  once  started  schools  and  churches.  Dr.  Daniel  Doak 
brought  his  library  on  pack  horses  and  opened  a  school  in  1 780. 
He  became  President  of  Washington  College,  a  noted  institu- 
tion. This  was  twenty  years  before  the  University  of  Georgia 
was  opened.  To  Dr.  Doak  is  due  the  first  honor  of  starting 
schools  and  churches  there;  but  soon  he  was  joined  by  the 
Methodist  circuit  rider,  who  came  with  his  saddlebags  stuffed 
with  his  library  and  wardrobe.  Here  are  some  of  the  appoint- 
ments of  the  circuit  riders:  Holston,  Thomas  Milligan; 
Nolichucky,  Samuel  Douthet;  French  Broad,  John  Johnson; 
New  River,  Elisha  W.  Bowman ;  Clinch,  Joab  Watson ;  Pow- 
ell's Valley,  Moses  Black;  Wilderness,  Jacob  Young.  This 
light  spread  over  Middle  and  West  Tennessee. 

Tennessee  was  admitted  into  the  Union  in  1796  and  early 
gave  attention  to  internal  improvements.  In  1804  "turnpike 
roads"  were  built.  The  people  lived  in  good  houses  and  on 
fine  farms.  So  civilization  came  to  North  Georgia  from  East 
Tennessee;  and  all  this  time  we  were  advancing  on  our  side, 
and  the  irrepressible  spirit  of  trade  was  pushing  from  both 
sides.  First  the  people  commenced  moving  West  with  pack 
horses.  Then  the  old  trail  was  widened  into  a  turnpike  road. 
Enterprising  men  soon  established  stands  on  the  road  and 
built  good  frame  houses  and  clusters  of  log  houses,  also 
stables  and  stake-and-rider  fence  lots.  They  made  provision 
for  the  traveling  public.  At  first  most  of  the  traveling  was 
on  horseback.  A  strong  horse,  with  a  good,  roomy  saddle, 
stirrups  the  right  length,  and  going  in  a  fox  trot,  will  easily 
carry  a  rider  forty  miles  a  day.     Sometimes  half  a  dozen  or 

73 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


more  people  met  at  one  of  these  stands.  They  found  plenty 
of  good  things  to  eat,  and  around  a  wide  fireplace  good  cheer 
prevailed. 

The  next  things  that  came  were  droves  of  fine  beef  cattle 
from  Kentucky  and  Tennessee;  droves  of  horses  and  mules, 
sleek  and  fat,  a  hundred  in  a  drove ;  then  the  hog  droves,  from 
five  hundred  to  two  thousand  in  a  drove.  The  manager  went 
forward  a  day  or  two  ahead  to  engage  corn  and  lots  for  his 
hogs.  Often  there  was  a  purveyor,  who  came  early  in  the 
afternoon  to  stop  at  the  place  where  they  were  to  spend  the 
night.  He  commenced  cooking  for  the  hands  that  drove  the 
hogs,  and  he  also  prepared  an  early  breakfast  in  the  morning. 
Usually  the  cooking  was  done  in  a  little  house  built  for  their 
use.  The  hallooing  of  the  drivers  could  be  heard  from  morn- 
ing till  night.  If  ever  you  were  a  boy,  had  eaten  a  hearty 
supper,  and  had  gone  into  the  place  where  these  men  were 
cooking  and  frying  potatoes,  if  it  didn't  sharpen  your  appe- 
tite, it  did  mine. 

One  other  member  of  the  traveling  public  was  a  large  wag- 
on drawn  by  four  oxen.  It  was  loaded  with  flour  and  whisky. 
They  went  direct  to  the  gold  mines.  The  horses,  mules,  and 
hogs  went  to  Middle  Georgia,  where  cotton  was  king. 

Commencing  with  the  Tennessee  line,  coming  into  Georgia, 
here  are  some  of  the  names  of  the  principal  men  who  had 
stands  on  the  road:  Pettis,  McNair,  Ellis  Harlan,  James  Mon- 
roe, George  Harlan,  Judge  Martin,  John  Bell  (at  Sanders- 
town  and  Love),  Mrs.  Harnage  and  Judge  Daniel  (at  Long 
Swamp),  and  Lewis  Blackburn  (on  the  Etowah).  I  make 
particular  mention  of  some  of  these. 

Judge  John  Martin,  usually  called  "J^ck"  Martin,  with 
some  Indian  blood,  but  a  blonde,  was  a  chief.     He  was  about 

74 


.1/  )'    .1  U  T  O  B  I  O  G  R  A  P  H  y 


five  feet  ten  inches  and  weighed  about  one  hundred  and  seventy 
pounds.  He  had  two  wives  at  one  time,  not  many  years  be- 
tween their  ages.  They  were  sisters,  Misses  Lucy  and  Nellie 
McDaniel,  who  had  about  the  same  amount  of  Indian  blood 
that  he  had.  They  were  rather  small  and  good-looking  wom- 
en. He  had  good  homes  for  them  both  about  fifteen  miles 
apart,  one  on  the  Saluquay  River,  the  other  on  the  Coosawat- 
tee.  The  oldest  daughter  of  the  Saluquay  wife  married  John 
Bell,  a  merchant  and  farmer.  Her  father  provided  well  for 
her.  She  had  an  old  negro  man  and  his  wife  to  look  after  ev- 
erything, a  cook,  and  plenty  of  house  servants.  The  cares  of 
the  household  did  not  trouble  her  much,  and  she  was  very  fond 
of  playing  cards.  She  had  a  brother  and  a  sister,  one  a  little 
older  and  the  other  a  little  younger  than  I.  Occasionally  I 
was  a  visitor.  We  hunted  possums  with  a  little  dog  named 
Grooch,  and  we  seldom  failed  to  get  a  possum.  The  oldest 
child  of  the  Coosawattee  wife  was  named  Brice,  a  tall,  hand- 
some young  man.  She  also  had  a  grown  daughter,  Susanna, 
and  a  son,  Dawson,  twelve  years  old.  I  was  there  in  1834 
and  saw  Susanna  sweep  their  house  for  the  last  time.  She 
burned  the  broom  for  good  luck,  walked  down  the  steps,  and 
got  into  the  carriage.  With  a  sad  heart  they  left  their  old 
home  for  the  last  time  and  started  on  their  long  journey  to 
the  West.  Judge  Martin  owned  about  eighty  negroes,  well 
fed  and  clothed  and  not  overworked.  In  sight  of  the  old 
home  were  their  quarters,  a  little  village  kept  clean  and  neat. 
Martin  owned  a  noted  farm  on  the  Coosawattee  River.  It  is 
now  known  as  the  Carter  place. 

Three  miles  north  on  the  road  was  the  George  Harlan 
place.  Harlan  was  part  Indian  and  dark.  Mrs.  Harlan  was 
Miss  Anna  May,  a  white  lady  and  a  superior  woman  in  every 

75 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


respect.  They  had  one  child,  Elvira,  who,  like  her  mother, 
was  a  most  excellent  woman.  She  married  a  Mr.  Roach. 
Harlan's  was  the  best  house  in  that  part  of  the  country,  a  well- 
arranged  two-story  frame.  He  had  a  very  fine  orchard  of 
apples  and  peaches,  as  delicious  as  any  fruit  I  have  ever  tasted. 
A  spring  came  out  from  a  large  limestone  rock,  with  a  fine 
stone  spring  house  a  few  feet  below.  This  gave  the  place  the 
name  of  Rock  Spring.  His  farm  was  three  or  four  miles 
from  here,  a  little  below  the  Martin  place.  He  had  from 
seventy-five  to  a  hundred  head  of  cattle.  They  lived  well  on 
the  canebrakes  on  the  river  during  the  winter  and  in  summer 
on  a  mountain  range.  He  salted  them  himself  on  Sunday,  and 
when  he  called  them  they  bellowed  and  scampered  as  if  they 
would  run  over  their  master.  The  first  night  I  ever  spent  in 
that  part  of  the  country  was  in  that  house.  In  1834  they  left 
their  fine  home  for  the  West. 

The  old  McDaniel  home,  where  Martin's  two  wives  were 
brought  up,  is  about  a  mile  north  of  the  Harlan  place.  That 
old  place  must  have  been  settled  about  1770.  When  I  saw 
the  old  place  not  a  tree  nor  stump  was  to  be  seen,  except  a 
clump  of  trees  where  there  were  some  graves.  There  was  a 
tall  Lombardy  poplar,  on  the  top  branches  of  which  was  one 
of  the  finest  singing  mocking  birds,  mocking  every  bird  that 
was  there  to  warble  its  notes.  On  that  place  were  a  large 
limestone  rock  and  quite  a  number  of  walnut  trees,  where  my 
brothers  hulled  bushels  of  walnuts.  Also  there  was  a  large 
blackberry  patch. 

The  Old  Federal  Road  was  once  a  turnpike  road.  By 
whom  owned  and  who  collected  the  toll  I  do'  not  know. 
There  was  not  much  digging  to  level  the  road,  but  there  was 
a  heavy  causeway  in  that  limestone  soil.     The  road  was  not 

76 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


kept  up  after  1830.  I  saw  one  of  the  old  gates  hanging  to 
the  post  on  its  hinges  in  1832.  My  question  is,  Who  made  the 
road,  and  why  is  it  called  Old  Federal? 

The  generous  soil  of  these  fresh  lands  yields  from  thirty 
to  forty  bushels  of  corn  to  the  acre,  and  the  bottoms  yield 
from  fifty  to  sixty  bushels.  The  drovers  took  about  all  the 
farmers  could  spare  at  a  good  price,  so  they  were  fortunate 
in  having  a  market  at  home. 

77 


PART  TWO 

CONVERSION,   MARRIAGE,  AND  BEGINNINGS  OF 

MINISTRY 


CHAPTER  I 
Conversion  and  Call  to  Preach 

T  N  1840  we  moved  from  where  we  first  settled,  still  in  Mur- 
ray County,  but  not  far  from  the  Tennessee  line.  The 
last  thirty  years  of  the  family  the  home  was  near  Catoosa 
Springs,  and  until  the  death  of  father  and  mother.  The 
springs  were  at  one  time  a  popular  resort,  having  hundreds 
of  visitors.  The  locality  is  a  little  valley  through  which  flows 
a  stream  of  water,  quite  small  until  it  enters  the  springs,  about 
fifty  in  number.  None  are  large,  but  all  boil  up  as  distinct 
fountains.  They  flow  from  two  large  hills  upon  the  opposite 
side  and  furnish  many  varieties  of  mineral  waters  good  for 
cutaneous  diseases.  The  Cherokees  knew  the  virtues  of  these 
waters,  and  there  were  evidences  of  old  Indian  camps  on  the 
grounds.  Lately  the  springs  have  not  attracted  the  attention 
they  once  did.  At  first  they  were  on  the  line  of  Walker  and 
Murray  Counties,  but  now  they  are  in  Catoosa  County.  The 
name  is  a  misfit.  Catoosa  is  the  Cherokee  word  for  "moun- 
tain." That  part  of  the  State  was  also  settled  by  numerous 
worthy  families — Colonel  Ramsey,  a  noted  citizen,  the  Mc- 
Gills,  and  the  McSpaddens.  In  the  Red  Hill  settlement  were 
the  Pitners,  Mortons,  Varnells,  McGatheys,  Stantons,  John- 
sons, John  McCombs,  and  many  others,  as  good  citizens  as 
could  be  found  in  any  State. 

Here  let  me  pay  tribute  to  the  Rev.  Francis  Bird.  He  en- 
tered the  South  Carolina  Conference  in  1805  with  Dr.  Lovick 
Pierce.  He  was  an  itinerant  for  four  years,  then  married 
and  located  in  Buncombe  County,  North  Carolina.  As  there 
were  no  homes  for  pastors'  families,  the  marriage  of  a  preach- 
6  81 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


er  was  soon  followed  by  his  location.  Yet  these  men  did  not 
cease  to  preach  and  build  up  the  Church.  They  were  loyal  to 
all  her  interests.  While  in  the  Conference  they  w^ere  studious, 
became  able  men  in  the  ministry,  and  supplied  a  great  need  in 
the  Church.  As  young  itinerants  were  not  ordained,  these 
local  preachers  baptized  and  administered  the  sacrament  to 
the  people.  Brother  Bird  did  a  full  share  of  this  good  work 
in  keeping  together  and  building  up  the  Church.  While  yet 
a  strong  man  he  moved  to  Habersham  County  and  lived  in 
the  Mossy  Creek  settlement,  which  was  inhabited  by  people 
of  high  intelligence.  Dr.  Josiah  Askew,  grandfather  of  Bish- 
op Atticus  G.  Haygood  and  of  Miss  Laura  Haygood,  is  buried 
there.  The  Bishop's  mother  taught  him  about  all  the  Latin  he 
ever  learned.  Historians  have  not  done  full  justice  to  these 
people.  Nacoochee  started  first  and  has  always  been  in  the 
lead.  Brother  Bird  moved  to  Cherokee,  Georgia,  before  the 
Indians  left,  and  as  the  white  people  came  he  was  ready  to 
organize  them  into  a  Church.  One  of  the  first  churches  in 
Walker  County  was  Bird's  Chapel. 

Brother  Bird  was  often  a  supply  on  a  mission.  He  was  a 
great  preacher,  and  the  people  heard  him  gladly.  He  lived  in 
his  own  home,  had  plenty,  and  was  given  to  hospitality. 
Traveling  by  private  conveyance  to  a  Western  Conference, 
Bishop  Andrew  stopped  with  his  old  friend  and  mentioned 
his  enjoyment  of  the  visit.  Sister  Bird  read  good  books,  had 
an  amiable  disposition,  and  her  home  influence  was  the  best. 
The  nine  daughters  of  the  family  were  modeled  after  their 
mother  —  all  fair  in  feature,  graceful  in  form,  bright  in 
mind,  and  married  not  too  young  nor  too  old.  The  parents 
were  sweethearts  as  long  as  they  lived.  Brother  Bird  died 
in  November,  1861 ;  and  his  wife  died  in  May,  1864.     Both 

82 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


were  buried  at  Lee's  Chapel,  in  graves  still  unmarked,  not  far 
from  Catoosa  Springs.  The  late  Rev.  F.  G.  Hughes  was 
Brother  Bird's  grandson,  and  he  has  four  great-grandsons  in 
the  North  Georgia  Conference:  the  Revs.  W.  T.  Hamby, 
John  P.  Irvine,  and  the  Twiggs  brothers.  Personally,  I  owe 
much  to  Brother  Bird,  who  baptized  me  and  other  members 
of  the  family. 

I  had  the  "Shorter  Catechism"  and  could  read  the  Bible 
when  seven  years  old.  My  first  teacher  was  a  devout  Chris- 
tian. At  twelve  o'clock  we  all  stood  while  he  asked  the  bless- 
ing. It  was  in  the  country,  and  he  had  a  full  house.  Young 
at  this  time,  he  became  a  prominent  citizen  and  filled  honor- 
able positions.  The  first  hymn  I  heard  my  mother  sing  was, 
"Alas!  and  did  my  Saviour  bleed?"  I  was  impressed  when 
I  heard  of  people  being  converted  and  of  dying  triumphant 
deaths;  also  with  the  sacredness  of  the  Sabbath,  but  I  violated 
it  often.  After  I  entered  my  teens  I  often  went  to  bed  with- 
out supper,  turned  my  face  to  the  wall,  and  was  sorry  for 
what  I  had  done,  but  never  said  a  word  about  it. 

The  effectual  conviction  was  made  when  I  was  nearly 
eighteen.  On  a  Sunday  evening,  with  my  most  congenial 
friend,  I  went  to  his  father's  after  a  sermon.  His  brother 
gave  an  exhortation.  He  had  been  growing  weaker  for 
months  from  a  wasting  sickness,  but  had  been  gloriously  con- 
verted. He  told  us  of  it.  That  was  the  arrow  that  pierced 
my  heart,  and  it  was  a  year  before  it  was  removed.  On  my 
way  home  I  knelt  by  a  tree  and  prayed.  "The  more  I  strove 
against  its  powers,  I  felt  its  weight  and  guilt  the  more."  This 
was  in  June,  1841.  My  load  grew  every  day.  A  sermon 
from  the  text,  "Moses  said  to  Hobab,  Come  thou  with  us,  and 
we  will  do  thee  good,"  led  me  to  join  the  Church.     At  the 

83 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


first  opportunity,  as  the  hymn,  "I  am  bound  for  the  promised 
land,"  was  being  sung,  I  gave  my  hand  to  the  preacher,  Rev. 
Levi  Brotherton.  The  next  moment  my  brother  and  three 
other  boys  followed  my  example. 

A  month  afterwards  there  was  a  revival  meeting  seven 
miles  from  home,  over  the  line  in  Tennessee.  I  was  teaching 
at  the  time ;  and  as  school  had  just  started,  I  thought  I  could 
not  attend  the  meetings.  Great  reports  of  it  came  every  day. 
On  Tuesday  we  turned  out  for  dinner  and  had  our  buckets 
at  the  spring.  One  of  the  schoolboys  had  been  converted, 
and  he  said  that  if  I  would  go  he  would  return  with  me.  In 
a  moment  I  decided  and  dismissed  the  school  until  Thursday. 
With  five  others,  I  went  that  evening.  All  visitors  were  wel- 
come, and  the  meeting  that  night  was  good.  The  next  day 
Brother  Brotherton  preached  from  the  text,  "They  that  be 
whole  need  not  a  physician,  but  they  that  are  sick."  With  a 
number  of  others,  I  knelt  for  prayer  and  did  what  I  had  tried 
to  do  for  more  than  a  year,  to  trust  my  sinful  soul  into  the 
hands  of  a  holy  and  righteous  Saviour.  When  the  trust  was 
given,  in  a  moment  joy  came.  I  rose  up  and  praised  the  Lord 
of  glory,  and  every  face  was  bright  with  love,  many  praising 
God  for  his  wonderful  goodness.  Night  came  before  I  was 
alone  and  could  thank  the  Lord.  It  was  a  precious  moment 
to  bless  him  for  what  he  had  done  for  me.  The  whole  way  to 
the  mercy  seat  was  bright  and  clear.  I  did  not  so  much  pray 
as  give  thanks  for  the  great  blessing  received.  An  early  start 
brought  me  to  school  on  time  Thursday. 

The  next  question  was  as  to  which  Church  I  should  join. 
With  good  feelings  toward  Presbyterians,  Baptists,  and  oth- 
ers, I  concluded  that  as  to  doctrines  and  usages  the  Methodist 
Church  was  the  one  for  me.     Boarding  at  the  home  of  the 

84 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


young  man  who  went  with  me  to  the  meeting,  we  had  family- 
prayer,  and  we  also  had  family  prayer  in  my  own  home  on 
Friday  night.  The  family  Bible  had  never  felt  so  heavy  be- 
fore. At  dinner  the  next  day  mother  requested  me  to  ask  the 
blessing.  When  I  had  done  so,  I  saw  tears  in  her  deep  blue 
eyes. 

Two  weeks  afterwards  we  had  a  meeting  at  our  own  church, 
the  building  having  just  been  completed.  Before  this  preach- 
ing had  been  held  in  the  schoolhouse.  Some  families  tented, 
and  the  meeting  started  well.  About  the  second  night,  while 
in  my  arms,  my  sister  was  converted  and  then  my  brother. 
Sister  was  the  oldest  child,  I  next,  and  then  brother.  She 
had  been  deeply  concerned  before  any  of  the  rest  of  us.  My 
brother  died  a  member  of  the  Conference. 

My  call  to  preach  came  the  next  year.  I  had  taken  part  in 
prayer  meetings  and  class  meetings.  I  was  working  on  the 
farm  and  saw  the  stars  in  the  morning  and  sometimes  in  the 
evening  while  at  work.  Always  the  great  question  was  before 
me.  I  did  not  know  what  to  say  or  do.  Every  moment  pos- 
sible, week  day  and  Sunday,  I  read  the  Bible.  I  began  at  the 
first  chapter  and  read  to  the  epistles  of  Peter.  I  read  oi  those 
whom  the  Lord  called — Moses,  Samuel,  and  especially  Paul. 
"Woe  is  me  if  I  preach  not  the  gospel!"  I  cannot  number 
the  times  I  knelt  at  the  end  of  a  furrow  and  prayed  for  guid- 
ance. I  had  never  mentioned  the  matter  to  any  one.  Intend- 
ing to  talk  about  it,  I  stayed  all  night  with  a  preacher,  but  I 
failed  to  speak  on  the  momentous  subject.  One  Sunday  night 
the  house  was  full.  A  Presbyterian  preached  on  the  subject, 
"The  Ambassador."  Every  word  came  to  me.  The  time  to 
yield  had  come,  and  despair  seized  me.  I  went  to  the  altar, 
crying  for  help.    The  good  minister  came  to  me.    I  told  him, 

85 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


and  he  understood.     Then  all  was  surrendered,  and  all  re- 
mains so  to  this  very  day. 

Of  two  events  in  my  life  I  am  well  satisfied:  First,  my  con- 
version; second,  my  call  to  preach.  Soon  afterwards  I  was 
licensed  to  exhort  in  our  new  church.     The  hymn  was : 

"My  Saviour,  my  almighty  Friend, 

When  I  begin  thy  praise, 
Where  will  the  growing  numbers  end, 

The  numbers  of  thy  grace  ? 
Thou  art  my  everlasting  trust; 

Thy  goodness  I  adore ; 
Send  down  thy  grace,  O  blessed  Lord, 

That  I  may  love  thee  more. 

My  feet  shall  travel  all  the  length 

Of  the  celestial  road, 
And  march  with  courage  in  thy  strength. 

To  see  the  Lord  my  God. 
Awake !  awake  !  my  tuneful  powers  : 

With  this  delightful  song 
I'll  entertain  the  darkest  hours. 

Nor  think  the  season  long." 

Smith  Chapel  was  a  fruitful  little  vine  for  a  number  of 
years.  Children  whose  parents  took  no  interest  in  religion 
were  added  to  the  Church  and  made  useful  members.  My 
conviction  came  in  1841,  my  conversion  in  1842,  and  my  call 
to  preach  in  1843.     I  ^^^t  that  section  in  1844. 

86 


CHAPTER  II 
Admission  on  Trial,  1844,  and  Dahlonega,  1845 

A  FTER  spending  four  years  in  that  section  of  Georgia 
next  to  Tennessee,  I  came  to  Lumpkin  County  and  taught 
school  near  New  Bridge.  The  preceding  teacher  had  had 
trouble  with  the  larger  boys,  who  had  broken  up  his  school. 
The  custom  was  for  the  teacher  to  draw  articles  of  agreement 
stating  what  he  would  teach  and  the  price  per  pupil.  Parents 
signed  the  number  of  children  they  would  send.  Some  told 
me  they  would  patronize  the  school  on  condition  that  I  would 
not  take  the  bad  boys.  When  the  school  opened,  one  of  the 
worst  boys  came.  He  behaved  for  a  few  weeks  and  then  re- 
fused to  keep  the  rules  and  was  expelled.  The  news  spread 
rapidly  everywhere,  and  many  said:  "I  told  you  so."  The 
boy's  venerable  father  and  his  brother,  who  had  supported  the 
school,  came  to  see  me  and  said:  "We  know  the  boy  is  in  the 
wrong,  and  he  must  be  made  to  obey  the  rules.  We  will  stand 
by  you  until  you  flog  him  well."  I  replied  that  I  heartily 
appreciated  their  friendship,  but  that  I  could  not  do  as  they 
wished.  I  submitted  this  proposition:  that  I  did  not  want 
them  present,  but  that  if  the  boy  would  come  back  the  next 
morning,  confess  his  wrong,  and  promise  upon  his  honor  as 
a  gentleman  to  obey  the  rules  I  would  take  him  back.  He 
did  so  and  became  one  of  my  best  pupils.  He  finally  became 
an  educated  man  and  a  Cumberland  Presbyterian  minister. 

Soon  after  this  one  of  the  greatest  benefits  came  to  me, 
from  whom  I  cannot  tell.  Mr.  Wesley  asked  perhaps  a  dozen 
men  to  give  an  account  of  their  call  to  the  ministry.  Dr. 
Clarke,  Dr.  Benson,  John  Fletcher,  and  others.     I  was  per- 

87 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


mitted  to  keep  the  book  reciting  their  experiences  only  for  a 
month,  and  I  devoted  every  spare  moment  to  reading  it.  From 
it  I  received  great  comfort  and  help.  I  was  a  licensed  ex- 
horter  then  and  did  a  pretty  full  share  of  missionary  work 
among  the  gold  miners.  A  rich  mine  up  the  river  was  known 
as  the  Brier  Patch.  The  diggers  had  no  Sunday  clothes  and 
did  not  go  to  church.  A  regular  appointment  at  that  place 
was  enjoyed  by  them.  Elsewhere  we  had  services  on  Satur- 
day night  and  Sunday  morning.  At  Smith  Chapel  we  had  a 
good  Sunday  school  and  some  able  teachers.  Dr.  J.  R.  Thom- 
as, afterwards  for  many  years  President  of  Emory  College, 
attended  the  school ;  and  his  sister,  Miss  Adeline  Thomas, 
Mrs.  Dr.  Smith,  who  was  highly  educated,  and  Mrs.  Gouedy 
were  teachers.  In  many  respects  I  have  never  been  in  a  bet- 
ter Sunday  school.  Being  its  secretary,  it  was  of  great  benefit 
to  me. 

About  the  time  my  school  closed  I  was  licensed  to  preach 
and  was  recommended  to  the  Conference  for  admission  on 
trial  November  i6,  1844,  on  my  twenty-first  birthday. 

Circuits  were  large  in  those  days,  and  Quarterly  Confer- 
ences were  of  great  interest,  although  sometimes  it  was  twenty 
miles  from  one  to  another.  From  New  Ridge  to  Cumming, 
Forsyth  County,  was  about  that  distance.  Uncle  Sammy 
Smith,  a  somewhat  eccentric  exhorter,  and  Joseph  Chambers, 
a  class  leader  and  valuable  worker  in  the  Church,  accompanied 
me  to  the  Quarterly  Conferences.  The  preaching  by  all  de- 
nominations was  done  in  the  courthouse.  The  Quarterly 
Conference  was  held  in  the  academy.  The  presiding  elder 
examined  the  applicant,  and  he  was  licensed  tO'  preach  and 
recommended  to  the  Annual  Conference  by  the  Quarterly 
Conference.     The  text  at  eleven  o'clock  Saturday  morning 

88 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


was  Isaiah  xxx.  21:  "And  thine  ears  shall  hear  a  word  be- 
hind thee,  saying,  This  is  the  way,  walk  ye  in  it,  when  ye  turn 
to  the  right  hand,  and  when  ye  turn  to  the  left." 

Willis  D.  Mathis  was  the  presiding  elder.  He  entered  the 
Georgia  Conference  in  183 1.  He  served  the  Church  effective- 
ly in  many  prominent  appointments — circuits,  stations,  and 
districts — for  twenty-one  years,  was  superannuated  three 
years,  and  then  served  two  additional  years  in  the  Georgia 
Conference.  In  1856  he  was  transferred  to  the  Alabama  Con- 
ference, serving  the  Talladega  District  four  years  and  We- 
tumpka  Station  in  1861,  where  his  health  failed.  The  ensuing 
Conference  granted  him  a  superannuate  relation,  which  he 
retained  until  his  death.  His  was  a  sweet  spirit.  The  good- 
ness of  his  heart  was  stamped  on  his  countenance  and  gave 
the  witchery  of  love  to  his  voice  and  manner.  He  sang  the 
praises  of  God  with  remarkable  unction  and  sweetness.  He 
was  profoundly  versed  in  the  mysteries  of  grace  and  taught 
the  deep  things  of  God  in  demonstration  of  the  Spirit  and 
power.  Divine  love  permeated  his  private  and  public  life  and 
made  all  who  knew  him  feel  that  the  power  which  wrought  in 
him  was  not  of  man,  but  of  God.  The  beauty  of  his  Chris- 
tianity rendered  him  a  fit  medium  through  which  the  attrac- 
tiveness of  the  cross  drew  many  souls  to  God.  Multitudes 
will  bless  his  memory.  When  his  last  hour  came  he  was 
ready  to  say,  with  the  beloved  apostle:  "Come,  Lord  Jesus; 
come  quickly."  In  addition  to  the  above  general  information, 
Brother  Mathis  was  brought  up  in  Jackson  County,  Georgia, 
became  a  useful  local  preacher,  and  was  on  the  Coweta  and 
Carrollton  Mission  in  1828.  The  fruits  of  his  work  remain 
to  this  day.     For  a  number  of  years  he  resided  in  Meriwether 

89 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


County.     He  presented  to  me  a  book  at  the  end  of  my  second 
year,  and  it  is  cherished  to  this  day. 

Rev.  Robert  StripHng  was  our  beloved  pastor  then.  He 
lived  at  Gumming.  While  preaching  at  Dahlonega  one  of  his 
children  died  early  in  the  morning,  and  he  received  the  news 
that  evening.  He  rode  thirty  miles  in  the  night  to  meet  the 
mother  in  her  grief  and  to  see  the  child  cold  in  death.  It  was 
a  sore  bereavement.  Brother  Stripling  was  especially  kind  to 
me.  He  also  transferred  to  Alabama.  When  old  and  super- 
annuated, nearly  forty  years  afterwards,  he  wrote  to  me,, 
telling  how  glad  he  would  be  to  be  back  in  Georgia. 

90 


CHAPTER  III 
My  Precious  Wife 

T    WOULD  be  recreant  to  opportunity  and  obligation  if  I 
did  not  give  a  full  chapter  to  the  wife  of  my  bosom  and 
to  other  women  who  have  smoothed  the  way  for  my  feet  in 
my  long  journey  as  an  itinerant  Methodist  preacher. 

In  every  character  and  incident  there  are  two  or  more 
questions:  Where?  When?  Who?  The  "where"  was  at 
Leathers'  Ford,  or  New  Bridge,  in  Lumpkin  County,  on  the 
Chestatee  River,  the  Cherokee  word  for  "clear  water,"  but 
the  gold  diggers  made  it  a  very  muddy  stream.  In  the  early 
thirties  the  rich  gold  mines  in  that  section  attracted  people 
from  far  and  near.  In  the  ford  of  the  river  there  was  a  rich 
mine  in  a  canal  a  mile  or  more  in  length  which  turned  the 
entire  volume  of  the  stream.  In  the  old  bed  of  the  river 
thousands  upon  thousands  of  dollars'  worth  of  gold  was 
found.  A  number  of  intelligent  and  some  wealthy  people 
came  there  to  live — the  Stocks,  the  Smiths,  the  Halls,  the 
Masons,  the  Gouedys,  and  others. 

Mrs.  Gouedy  was  the  only  daughter  of  a  rich  planter  in 
South  Georgia.  Her  father,  David  Halliburton,  owned  three 
plantations  and  many  negroes.  Her  mother  was  a  Virginian, 
a  most  excellent  lady,  and  Tom  Pete  was  an  only  brother. 
Ann  Eliza  was  a  beautiful  girl  of  bright  mind  and  noble  heart 
and  was  well  educated.  She  became  the  wife  of  James  Goue- 
dy, at  one  time  a  prominent  merchant  in  Augusta.  He  was  a 
man  of  generous  heart,  and  the  couple  were  very  congenial. 
Mr.  Gouedy  was  richer  than  any  one  else  in  the  community 
in  gold  lots,  mills,  farms,  and  merchandise. 

91 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


In  the  village  lived  a  lone  orphan  thrown  upon  her  OAvn 
resources  for  a  living,  but  rich  in  industry,  energy,  fortitude, 
and  intuitive  judgment  of  people  and  of  what  was  proper  at 
all  times.  Her  name  was  Rachel  Mullinix.  Mrs.  Gouedy 
asked  Rachel  to  come  to  her  house  and  said:  "Rachel,  what 
are  you  doing  now?"  She  answered:  "Almost  anything  I 
can  get  to  do."  "Can  you  work  a  buttonhole?"  "I  can  try." 
Taking  a  piece  of  cloth  and  needle  and  thread,  she  made 
an  effort  and  handed  the  work  back.  Mrs.  Gouedy  ex- 
claimed: "Why,  Rachel,  this  is  as  good  as  I  want.  I  have  a 
great  deal  of  work  to  be  done,  and  I  will  pay  you  for  it." 
The  girl  was  industrious  and  economical.  The  Gouedys  had 
horses  and  a  carriage,  and  after  many  a  day's  busy  work  the 
good  lady  and  Rachel  were  seen  riding  out  in  the  carriage. 
They  often  rode  on  horseback,  which  was  much  more  common 
then  than  now.  The  names  of  the  horses  were  Tom  and  Pete. 
Tom  was  spirited  and  shied  at  many  an  object,  but  this  was 
the  horse  that  the  brave  girl  rode.  She  looked  to  see  that 
the  bridle  was  right  and  the  saddle  well  put  on,  and  away  they 
galloped. 

A  United  States  branch  mint  had  been  established  at  Dah- 
lonega,  and  many  good  people  lived  there.  The  Gouedy  house 
was  a  hospitable  one,  and  numerous  visitors  were  entertained. 
Mrs.  Gouedy  always  had  Rachel  to  meet  the  company,  and 
some  of  her  intimate  friends  were  young  ladies  of  the  com- 
munity. Her  intuition  helped  her  to  make  the  best  of  these 
opportunities.  This  was  the  situation  when  I  went  there  in 
1844  to  teach  the  school.  Marrying  was  the  remotest  idea  in 
my  head.  My  fixed  aim  was  to  enter  the  Conference  at  the 
end  of  the  year. 

We  had  a  good  Sunday  school.     Dr.  James  R.  Thomas, 

92 


MRS.     W.    J.     COTTER 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


afterwards  President  of  Emory  College,  often  heard  our 
class.  I  met  the  young  lady  at  Sunday  school  and  church  and 
at  other  places.  The  story  of  our  courtship  need  not  be  told, 
but  in  a  little  while  that  remote  question  was  present.  The 
subject  of  an  itinerant  preacher's  wife  was  seriously  consid- 
ered, and  the  engagement  was  made,  but  not  to  be  consum- 
mated until  I  had  preached  one  year.  Thus  it  remained  until 
the  end  of  the  year.  I  had  bought  my  horse,  saddle,  and  bri- 
dle, and  all  preparations  had  been  made  for  my  entering  the 
ministry.  The  time  had  come,  the  Conference  had  met,  and 
I  could  not  tell  Rachel  good-by.  Early  one  morning  I  went 
to  her  and  told  her  so.  I  do  not  remember  what  she  said, 
but  the  next  day  we  were  married.  I  had  notice  of  my  ap- 
pointment. It  was  a  good  one  for  a  young  preacher,  but  I 
must  go  and  fill  a  round  of  appointments  and  see  about  our 
living. 

The  next  week  I  left  and  found  that  the  jtmior  preacher 
at  Dahlonega  was  to  be  supplied  and  that  the  man  who  was 
to  have  been  there  could  not  come,  but  could  take  my  place 
on  the  Cassville  Circuit.  So  after  a  two-weeks  ride  of  three 
hundred  miles  I  returned  with  the  glad  news  that  I  was  to 
remain  on  the  Dahlonega  Circuit.  Mrs.  Gouedy  came  at 
once  and  said  that  we  must  live  with  them.  She  told  Rachel 
to  go  on  with  her  work  for  three  weeks  at  pay  and  that  for 
the  week  I  was  at  home  there  would  be  no  charges  whatever. 
This  was  a  great  favor  to  me  and  gave  the  desired  opportu- 
nity to  study  and  learn  my  life  work. 

There  was  no  care  as  to  what  I  was  to  eat  or  wear.  My 
horse  was  saddled  and  hitched  to  a  post  when  I  was  ready  to 
go ;  and  after  returning  one  day  in  a  week  I  had  only  to  dis- 
mount at  the  gate,  take  my  saddlebags  and  enter  the  house, 

93 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


and  my  horse  was  not  seen  until  I  was  ready  to  go  again. 
Not  many  Methodist  preachers  started  their  itinerancy  under 
such  favorable  circumstances. 

When  I  visited  on  week  days  the  people  had  work  to  do, 
and  so  had  I  in  the  house  or  under  a  shady  tree.  Here  two 
things  were  learned:  the  tobacco  habit  was  left  off,  and  the 
least  the  preacher  said  about  his  salary  the  better.  At  the 
close  of  the  second  round  the  work  was  well  in  hand  and  con- 
tinued to  increase  until  the  end.  The  district  was  the  Chero- 
kee, and  it  embraced  all  the  Cherokee  country  to  the  Alabama 
and  Tennessee  lines.  The  presiding  elder  was  Russell  Reneau, 
and  the  preacher  in  charge  was  Aiken  W.  Ross.  The  num- 
ber of  members  was  one  thousand  three  hundred  and  forty- 
five.  A  good  salary  was  paid  Brother  Ross.  He  was  well 
read  in  history  and  poetry,  read  his  Greek  Testament  daily, 
and  was  a  gifted  speaker.  The  people  desired  his  return;  but 
he  decided  to  go  to  Texas,  where  he  filled  the  strongest  sta- 
tions and  sensed  faithfully  for  many  years. 

Our  circuit  was  fifty  miles  long  and  twenty-five  miles  wide, 
extending  over  Lumpkin  and  Forsyth  Counties,  with  twenty 
appointments,  at  each  of  which  there  was  preaching  twice  a 
month.  There  were  three  camp  grounds:  Lumpkin,  in  the 
lower  part  of  Lumpkin  County;  Holbrooks,  in  the  western 
part  of  Forsyth  County,  on  the  Cherokee  County  line;  and 
Amicolola,  in  the  northwest  part  of  Lumpkin  County.  The 
latter  name  means  "falling  water."  The  meetings  at  Lumpkin 
were  established  at  the  first  settling  of  the  country.  People 
came  twenty  miles  or  more  to  attend.  Thousands  of  souls 
were  converted  there,  my  wife  among  them.  Many  people 
tented  at  Holbrooks  with  gracious  results  in  converting  prayer. 
Spending  the  night  with  Jesse  Holbrooks,   who  was  a  fine 

94 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


singer,  he  sang  "One  more  river  to  cross,  and  we'll  be  at 
home."  Little  did  the  singer  or  hearer  think  that  before  they 
met  again  the  tuneful  one  would  have  crossed  the  river  and 
gone  home.  Great  congregations  and  many  conversions  also 
signalized  the  camp  meetings  at  Amicolola. 

The  congregation  at  Dahlonega  was  an  intelligent  one. 
There  were  three  able  preachers  in  the  Church,  Dr.  Thomas 
being  one  of  them.  This  made  it  embarrassing  for  the  young 
preacher.  One  beautiful  Sunday  in  May  I  begged  Dr.  Thomas 
to  preach  for  me,  but  he  said  plainly  that  he  would  not.  He 
explained  that  he  wanted  to  help  me,  but  that  if  he  did 
preach  it  would  be  saying  to  the  people  that  I  was  ashamed 
of  the  cause  I  had  espoused,  and  thus  it  would  do  me  more 
hurt  than  anything  else.  At  this  my  conscience  rallied,  and 
afterwards  I  preached  with  less  embarrassment  and  felt  as 
much  freedom  there  as  anywhere  else.  At  three  o'clock  that 
Sunday  we  had  a  class  meeting,  and  sixty  were  present.  Near- 
ly all  told  me  that  they  were  praying  for  me.  The  membership 
there  was  strong,  including  three  of  the  best  families — the 
Ouillians,  the  Pynes,  and  the  Moores — and  other  prominent 
people.  At  all  the  appointments  there  were  good  people  and 
a  large  number  of  useful  local  preachers.  Rev.  W.  S.  Wil- 
liams, known  as  "Buck"  Williams,  was  a  leader.  He  had  been 
a  member  of  the  Annual  Conference.  John  Harvey  Mash- 
bum  was  another.  The  Quarterly  Conference  was  a  strong 
body,  many  of  the  official  members  being  leading  citizens. 

Conference  met  that  year  in  Athens.  When  my  name  was 
called,  my  presiding  elder.  Rev.  Russell  Reneau,  said:  "Noth- 
ing against  him ;  but  it  is  well  for  me  tO'  report  that  early  in 
the  year  Brother  Cotter  took  unto  himself  a  wife,  and  she  is 
his  better  half."     Bishop  Andrew,  in  the  chair,  then  said: 

95 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


"You  have  no  complaint,  then,  that  Brother  Cotter  has  been 
gallanting  the  ladies."  The  old  rule  was  that  the  younger 
preachers  could  not  marry  under  four  years;  but  I  got  no 
scolding  for  breaking  the  rule  and  had  nothing  to  do  but  to 
listen  until  the  reading  of  the  appointments,  when  Bishop 
Andrew  read  out  my  name  to  Blairsville. 

96 


CHAPTER  IV 

Going  to  Our  New  Charge,  Blairsville  Mission,  1846 

npHERE  were  unseen  difficulties  and  dangers  on  our  way, 
rivers  to  cross  and  mountains  to  climb.  Parting  with  our 
friends  was  a  trial  to  us  all.  We  all  broke  down  and  cried. 
There  was  a  short  and  pleasant  visit  tO'  the  dear  ones  at  home, 
then  we  started  to  Blairsville.  The  second  day  we  forded  the 
Conasauga  River.  It  is  a  deep  stream  with  a  strong  current ; 
and  had  we  been  beaten  down  six  feet,  we  would  have  been 
drowned  inevitably.  The  true  horse  stood  at  one  time  for 
nearly  a  minute  unable  to  stem  the  current.  Gaining  his 
strength,  he  carried  us  to  the  opposite  bank.  The  body  of 
the  vehicle  was  full  of  water. 

The  third  day,  on  the  Westfield  turnpike  road,  we  crossed 
the  Cohutta,  and,  going  down  the  mountain,  one  of  the  wheels 
had  a  hard  jolt  upon  solid  rock  and  was  dished  the  wrong 
way.  There  was  no  chance  to  have  it  mended,  and  we  vainly 
hoped  it  would  hold  out  to  the  end  of  the  journey;  but  the 
next  evening,  where  the  road  ran  along  the  side  of  a  little 
creek  (its  banks  were  bordered  with  laurel  and  ivy  ever- 
greens), we  crossed  the  creek  and  went  into  some  stiff  mud, 
where  every  spoke  in  the  wheel  gave  way.  It  was  getting  late, 
and  we  had  no  chance  to  turn  back.  The  last  house  we  passed 
was  several  miles  away,  and  there  was  no  house  on  the  road 
before  us  that  could  have  been  reached.  It  seemed  for  a  while 
that  we  were  doomed  to  spend  the  night  there,  but  we  learned 
that  there  was  a  little  house  half  a  mile  away.  After  dark, 
leading  the  horse,  we  walked  to  the  place.  The  floor  was  half 
dirt  and  half  puncheon,  but  the  good  woman  received  us  kind- 
7  97 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


ly  and  did  the  best  she  could  for  us.  About  midnight  her 
husband  came  home  drunk.  Next  morning  I  went  back  sev- 
eral miles  to  the  White  Path  Gold  Mine  and  hired  a  carry-all, 
perhaps  the  only  one  within  twenty  miles.  It  was  getting  on 
in  the  evening  before  I  got  back.  Rachel  had  taken  the  arti- 
cles that  had  gotten  wet  in  the  river  out  of  the  trunks  and 
spread  them  on  the  low  bushes  to  dry.  The  scene  of  the  lone 
young  woman  there  impressed  me  as  partaking  of  the  morally 
sublime.  As  quickly  as  possible  we  arranged  everything  and 
started  on  our  way.  That  night  we  spent  with  Col.  E.  Chas- 
tain,  who  was  a  member  of  Congress  at  that  time,  and  we  were 
very  kindly  treated. 

The  next  evening  we  reached  Blairsville  and  were  kindly 
received  at  the  home  of  Rev.  Thomas  M.  Hughes,  a  local 
preacher.  Our  fixed  purpose  was  to  keep  house.  I  was  the 
first  pastor  that  had  lived  there,  and  really  there  was  nothing 
else  to  do.  The  only  house  was  a  cabin  which  had  not  been 
occupied  for  some  time.  The  rent  for  the  year  was  twelve 
dollars.  This  was  paid  by  covering  the  house.  With  my  own 
hands  I  chinked  and  daubed  it.  We  bought  feathers,  and 
Rachel  made  a  new  bedtick,  and  we  had  a  good  bed.  The 
one  improvised  for  company  was  not  sO'  good.  With  a  small 
supply  of  cooking  vessels  and  dishes  for  the  table,  we  moved 
in,  took  our  first  meal  together,  established  a  family  altar, 
and,  being  tired,  a  good  night's  rest  followed.  It  was  a  two- 
acre  lot,  so  we  had  a  good  garden  and  a  fine  patch  of  corn. 
There  our  first  baby  was  born,  and  we  named  him  Gouedy 
Halliburton. 

The  mission  extended  over  a  wide  territory,  and  there  were 
twenty  appointments  to  be  filled  once  a  month — one  in  North 
Carolina,  one  in  Tennessee,  and  the  rest  in  Georgia.     There 

98 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


were  bad  characters  on  the  State  Hnes.  Outlaws  could  easily 
go  from  one  State  to  another  and  escape  the  law.  In  one  or 
two  neighborhoods  I  was  afraid  of  losing  my  horse.  There 
were  six  camp  grounds:  Young  Cane,  Hothouse,  Cherokee, 
Fighting  Horn,  Gaddistown,  and  Choestoe.  A  good  measure 
of  success  was  obtained  all  over  the  charge.  After  the  middle 
of  the  year  Brother  Elrod,  a  useful  local  preacher,  was  em- 
ployed to  help  me,  and  one  hundred  and  twenty-seven  mem- 
bers were  added  to  the  Church.  Our  camp  meetings  were 
attended  by  many  people,  who  heard  the  gospel  with  profit 
and  probably  would  never  have  heard  it  anywhere  else.  At 
Gaddistown  there  was  some  very  rich  land  which  yielded  one 
hundred  and  twenty-three  bushels  of  the  finest  oats  to  the 
acre.  Brother  McAllister  took  charge  of  my  horse  to  recruit 
him  during  the  camp  meeting  and  fed  him  on  the  heads  of  the 
oats. 

We  had  some  trouble  at  the  Choestoe  camp  meeting.  The 
Union  County  gold  mines  had  just  been  discovered,  and  soon 
there  were  many  people  settling  in  that  section.  There  was 
no  law  nor  order.  Large  crowds  attended  the  meeting  and 
gave  trouble.  Unknown  to  them,  I  mingled  with  them  on 
Friday  night  and  heard  many  bad  things  they  said.  The  vig- 
ilance committee  had  discovered  whisky  on  the  grounds  and 
had  broken  a  large  jug  of  it.  Saturday  was  the  day  for  the 
Quarterly  Conference.  The  rule  of  the  Church  is  that  in  the 
absence  of  the  presiding  elder  the  preacher  in  charge  must  pre- 
side. Brother  Reneau  was  not  able  to  be  at  the  third  nor  the 
fourth  Quarterly  Conference  that  year,  so  I  had  to  preside. 
After  the  Conference  adjourned  and  all  had  left,  I  remained 
in  the  tent  to  review  what  had  been  done.  The  tent  was  on 
a  little  eminence,  back  of  which  was  an  open  glade  for  several 

99 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


hundred  yards.  Seven  men  walked  down  the  glade  and 
stopped  in  full  view  of  the  tent.  I  saw  one  of  them  take  out 
his  pistol  and  put  it  back.  Three  of  them  walked  away  out 
of  sight.  Four  walked  back  tO'  the  tent,  and  I  walked  to  the 
stand  as  they  did.  From  the  pulpit  I  saw  them  all  take  their 
seats.  I  think  Brother  A,  J.  Reynolds  preached  at  that  hour. 
These  four  men  all  responded  tO'  an  invitation  for  mourners 
at  the  close  of  the  service,  but  it  was  a  hypocritical  response. 
There  seemed  to  be  trouble  boding  for  the  night  service.  The 
women  became  alarmed  and  suggested  that  we  break  up  and 
go  home.  That  night  the  warning  was  to  those  who  desecrat- 
ed the  sacred  place  of  worship.  One  case  was  told  of  a  des- 
perate Tory  in  the  Revolutionary  War  who  killed  a  Baptist 
preacher  and  cut  out  his  tongue.  The  desperado  was  cap- 
tured. He  was  offered  a  few  moments  of  prayer  before  death 
came  to  him.  He  said  that  good  man's  tongue  was  before 
him,  and  he  could  not  pray.  Other  incidents  were  given. 
Fear  settled  down  upon  the  troublesome  crowd.  The  power 
of  the  Spirit  and  blessing  came  upon  the  whole  congregation. 
The  darkness  of  the  cloud  was  gone,  and  light  came.  Sixteen 
were  converted  that  night.  Sudden  vengeance  came  upon  the 
four  men.  One  was  blown  up  on  a  steamboat,  another  was 
killed  by  lightning,  another  was  stricken  blind,  and  the  fourth 
perished  miserably. 

There  were  many  poor  and  illiterate  people  scattered  over 
the  country,  and  there  were  many  first-class  citizens  in  com- 
fortable homes.  I  found  in  one  or  two  homes  copies  of  Clarke's 
and  Benson's  "Commentaries"  and  Fletcher's  "Checks"  in 
eight  volumes,  light  enough  to  be  held  and  read  while  riding 
in  a  saddle.  There  were  a  few  copies  of  the  Church  paper 
taken.      Scattered   over  the  county  we  had   some   excellent 

lOO 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


members  of  the  Church — the  Leggs,  Huckabys,  Addingtons, 
Jones,  Logans,  and  others  equally  as  good. 

The  people  were  anxious  for  light.  They  needed  only  a 
chance.  The  chance  had  come.  Young  Harris  College  has 
done  a  great  work  for  the  people  there  and  practically  all  over 
the  State.  This  portion  of  the  State  has  sent  forth  represent- 
ative men  in  Church  and  State. 

The  Mission  Board  paid  me  one  hundred  dollars  and  the 
mission  about  fifty  dollars,  with  quite  a  number  of  donations. 
The  amount  paid  does  not  mean  that  the  people  were  mean 
and  stingy.  All  the  supplies  of  the  county  were  made  at 
home.  There  was  but  little  sold,  and  but  little  money  was  in 
circulation.  At  one  time  I  was  without  a  cent,  and  I  went  to 
a  man  to  borrow  a  dollar.  Before  asking  for  it  a  brother 
came  to  the  door  and  said:  "Where  I  came  from  they  used  to 
pay  the  preacher,  but  no  one  has  said  a  word  to  me  about  it 
this  year."  He  handed  me  three  half  dollars.  I  have  never 
felt  heavier  half  dollars  since  that  day. 

The  year  was  drawing  to  a  close.  My  brother  Robert  came 
to  see  us.  He  said  that  he  must  take  Rachel  and  the  baby 
home  with  him,  that  it  would  not  do  to  leave  them  there  while 
I  went  to  Conference.  He  procured  a  gentle  horse  and  side- 
saddle. With  a  pillow  in  her  lap  and  the  baby  on  it,  Rachel 
rode  upon  her  horse.  Robert,  ahead  upon  his  own  horse,  led 
them  on  a  three  days'  journey. 

Our  good  friends,  the  Hugheses  and  Barclays,  had  never 
allowed  Rachel  to  spend  a  night  alone  while  I  was  gone.  The 
weeks  passed  by  very  slowly.  Most  of  my  time  was  spent  in 
the  country,  but  when  in  town  the  little  cabin  looked  very 
lonely.  During  that  year  at  one  point  in  my  circuit  thirteen 
bears  were  killed. 

lOI 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


Rev.  Thomas  M.  Hughes  was  born  in  Buncombe  County, 
North  Carolina,  January  31,  1809.  His  wife  was  born  De- 
cember II,  1 8 10,  in  Rutherford  County,  North  Carolina. 
They  were  married  in  Habersham  County,  Georgia,  January 
I,  1828.  Eleven  children  blessed  their  home.  Two  daughters 
married  preachers.  Revs.  J.  W.  Twiggs  and  M.  G.  Hamby. 
Three  of  their  sons  became  preachers.  Three  of  their  grand- 
sons are  members  of  the  North  Georgia  Conference — Rev. 
W.  T.  Hamby,  Rev.  John  P.  Erwin,  Rev.  Lovick  Marion 
Twiggs — and  Rev.  George  C.  Erwin,  a  great-grandson,  belongs 
to  the  South  Georgia  Conference. 

Rev.  Francis  Goodman  Hughes  married  Amanda  Goodrum. 
He  was  a  young  lawyer  with  good  prospects.  Obeying  the 
call  to  preach,  he  became  a  chaplain  in  the  Confederate  army. 
He  preached  faithfully  to  the  soldiers  and  looked  after  the 
sick  and  wounded.  When  the  war  closed,  he,  with  Gen.  C.  A. 
Evans  and  a  young  man  from  the  ranks.  Brother  Ellis,  was 
admitted  to  the  North  Georgia  Conference.  I  was  one  of  the 
committee  that  approved  their  examinations.  Brother  Hughes 
was  well  qualified  and  served  good  circuits  and  stations  and 
was  at  one  time  a  presiding  elder.  He  was  always  well  re- 
ceived and  was  successful.  He  was  at  one  time  pastor  at  New- 
nan.  When  he  superannuated,  he  came  to  Blairsville  to  live. 
We  were  greatly  endeared  to  each  other,  often  going  back  to 
old  memories.  He  lingered  for  a  while  in  his  last  illness. 
When  the  end  was  near,  he  called  his  family  in  around  his  bed 
and  pronounced  on  them  his  last  blessing,  dying  without  a  fear, 
but  with  the  sweet  hope  of  heaven.  I  was  asked  to  conduct 
the  funeral  and  did  so,  the  other  pastors  of  the  city  taking 
part.  His  remains  rest  in  the  cemetery  here.  I  prepared  an 
obituary  for  the  IVesleyan  Advocate,  which  was  adopted  as 

102 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


a  memoir  by  the  committee  on  memorials.  His  family  is  still 
in  Newnan,  highly  esteemed  and  loved  by  all.  In  the  church, 
to  the  right  of  the  pulpit,  is  a  beautiful  memorial  window 
perpetuating  the  esteem  and  love  in  which  he  is  held. 

I  am  indebted  to  the  Rev.  Thomas  C.  Hughes,  a  useful  and 
-beloved  local  preacher  at  Blairsville,  for  my  information.  His 
fellow  citizens  have  sent  him  to  the  Georgia  Legislature.  He 
has  held  places  of  honor.  I  held  him  in  my  arms  many 
times  in  1846.  I  thank  him  and  greatly  appreciate  the  service 
he  has  rendered  me. 

103 


CHAPTER  V 

SUMMERVILLE,  MARIETTA,  AND  InDIAN  GeNEROSITY,    1 847-48 

/'^HATTOOGA  is  in  many  respects  one  of  the  best  coun- 
ties in  the  State.  Its  soil  is  rich,  lying  mostly  in  beautiful 
valleys.  Its  original  forest  was  magnificent  in  oak,  hickory, 
pine,  poplar,  and  other  tall  trees.  In  intelligence  and  high 
social  position,  its  citizens  equal  any  in  the  State.  It  has 
more  fine  country  schools  than  any  county  I  have  ever 
found.  Take  an  instance  from  the  north  line  of  the  county. 
From  the  Browntown  Valley  to  Alpine,  on  ihe  Alabama  line, 
it  is  twenty  miles.  There  were  four  fine  schools,  all  with 
good  teachers  and  well  attended.  The  people  took  great  in- 
terest in  their  children.  They  also  had  good  Sunday  schools 
that  did  not  freeze  out  in  winter,  but  were  warm  and  comfort- 
able the  coldest  days  that  came.  One  Sunday  school  was  con- 
ducted in  the  evening,  the  most  successful  evening  school  I 
ever  attended. 

The  land  was  in  lots  of  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres.  The 
owners  held  the  deeds  to  their  homes.  There  were  no  monop- 
olies in  land.  Of  course  some  men  owned  more  than  others. 
The  property  was  well  divided.  Many  people  owned  negroes, 
but  a  majority  of  the  work  was  done  by  industrious  white 
people.  The  soil  yielded  forty  bushels  of  corn  and  twenty 
bushels  of  wheat  to  the  acre.  Large  cribs  were  full  of  corn, 
and  barns  were  full  of  provender  for  the  stock.  They  had 
very  fine  stock — horses,  cows,  sheep,  and  hogs^ — and  flocks  of 
geese  and  ducks  which  yielded  feathers  for  comfortable  beds. 
There  were  apples,  peaches,  and  other  fruits  in  abundance. 

The  three  denominations^ — Methodist,  Baptist,  and  Presby- 

104 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


terian — were  about  equally  divided.  The  moral  standard  of 
the  country  was  high.  I  mention  one  man,  the  Rev.  Irvin 
Atkinson.  When  yoimg  he  was  a  member  of  the  North  Car- 
olina Conference  and  was  stationed  at  Raleigh.  His  mind 
was  of  no  ordinary  cast,  and  it  was  well  cultivated.  In  my 
third  year  of  Conference  study  he  was  a  great  help  to  me.  He 
could  answer  all  my  questions  so  I  could  understand  them. 
He  was  a  man  of  great  influence  for  good.  He  was  lovable  in 
every  respect.  His  feeble  health  and  frail  constitution  limited 
his  labors  and  brought  death  sooner. 

Summerville  was  a  very  small  town  then.  The  parsonage 
was  at  Teloga  Springs,  one  of  the  finest  communities  in  the 
county.  The  reception  we  received  was  warm,  and  the  people 
remained  cordial  to  the  last.  With  my  wife's  intuitive  judg- 
ment and  single  aim  to  learn  the  duties  of  a  preacher's  wife,  she 
had  an  opportunity  which  she  greatly  improved.  As  every- 
where else,  she  won  the  affections  of  the  people.  The  parson- 
age was  visited  almost  daily  by  the  good  women.  They  fed  us 
on  the  fat  of  the  land.  There  she  found  some  women  of  great 
experience  and  learned  from  them  how  to  manage  a  home. 
She  saw  the  country  in  its  beauty,  in  its  greatness  and  noble- 
ness of  people,  as  she  had  never  seen  it  before.  It  was  an  op- 
portunity which  fitted  her  for  the  years  before  us.  It  was 
the  nearest  charge  to  my  old  home  I  ever  served,  only  about 
thirty-five  miles,  and  one  of  the  most  pleasant. 

I  must  mention  Brother  A.  B.  Neal  and  his  family.  They 
became  very  dear  to  me.  The  family  consisted  of  noble  boys, 
some  of  whom  I  received  into  the  Church.  Two  of  his  grand- 
sons are  now  members  of  some  of  the  Western  Conferences. 
His  only  living  son  is  Robert  P.  Neal,  of  Dalton,  Georgia,  a 
useful  local  preacher.    Brother  Neal  died  about  six  years  after 

105 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


I  left  there.  His  was  one  of  the  saddest  deaths  to  me.  From 
my  heart  I  wrote  the  family  a  note  of  condolence.  It  was 
preserved  in  the  family  Bible.  Only  a  few  years  ago,  when 
R.  P.  Neal  was  visiting  a  brother  or  sister,  the  letter  was  read 
by  them. 

I  might  add  the  name  of  William  Penn,  who  was  a  leading 
Methodist  and  controlled  more  money,  perhaps,  than  any  man 
in  the  county.  He  had  that  year  a  fine  peach  orchard  full  of 
fruit.  The  brandy  makers  tried  to  buy  it,  setting  a  price  upon 
each  tree.  Thomas  Wimms,  worth  not  half  the  property,  was 
a  close  friend.  They  talked  the  matter  over  and  decided  that 
it  was  against  the  rules  of  their  Church  to  make  brandy. 
Brother  Penn  had  a  great  number  of  hogs  and  large  cribs  of 
corn.  He  turned  his  hogs  into  the  peach  orchard,  and  they 
became  fat.  He  sold  his  corn  for  a  good  price  and  said  that 
he  had  a  clear  conscience  and  had  made  money. 

The  place  was  one  mile  west  of  the  river,  a  few  miles  above 
the  old  Warsaw  Ferry,  on  the  Chattahoochee,  owned  by  Evan 
Howell.  I  crossed  there  in  1838  on  my  way  from  Murray 
County  to  Augusta.  Considerably  over  a  hundred  years  ago 
a  young  Englishman  married  an  Indian  girl.  He  cultivated 
the  rich  river  bottoms  and  became  a  man  of  wealth.  In  the 
early  twenties  a  young  Methodist  preacher,  afterwards  the 
good  and  great  William  J.  Parks,  conducted  a  wonderful 
revival  of  religion  in  the  western  part  of  Gwinnett  County.  I 
cannot  give  the  locality ;  but  when  John  Rogers  told  me  of  the 
great  meeting  he  said  it  was  twelve  miles,  and  I  went  every 
Sunday  morning  to  class  meeting.  It  was  no  more  trouble 
than  to  take  my  basket  of  corn  and  go  twO'  hundred  yards 
and  feed  my  hogs.  Surely  "duty  did  not  seem  a  load,  nor 
worship  a  task."     Brother  Rogers  and  his  whole  family  be- 

106 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


came  members  of  the  Methodist  Church.  The  west  side  of 
the  river  was  then  all  Indian  territory.  Brother  Rogers  de- 
termined to  give  his  children  all  the  educational  advantages 
possible.  He  sent  his  daughters  to  the  far-famed  school  at 
Salem,  North  Carolina.  The  governors  of  the  State  and  many 
of  the  leading  people  sent  their  daughters  to  the  same  school. 
His  son,  William,  married  one  of  the  teachers  of  the  school 
and  brought  her  to  Georgia. 

Contemporary  with  the  Rogers  family,  there  lived  a  man 
widely  known  on  the  banks  of  the  Etowah  River,  Lewis 
Blackburn,  who  kept  a  public  house  and  entertained  thousands 
of  people,  stock  drovers  and  others.  When  President  Monroe 
made  his  tour  through  the  South,  he  spent  a  night  there.  He 
and  his  traveling  companions  traveled  in  the  State  coach. 
There  was  another  coach  that  carried  their  baggage.  After 
supper  one  of  the  drovers  came  out  picking  his  teeth,  saying: 
"I  wish  that  peddler  would  open  his  trimks.  I  might  want  to 
buy  something."  If  the  President  was  traveling  incognito, 
Mr.  Blackburn  knew  who  he  was.  Mrs.  Blackburn  had  some 
Indian  blood  in  her,  though  their  daughters  were  fair,  beau- 
tiful women.  Two  of  the  Blackburn  sisters  married  two  of 
the  Rogers  brothers.  So  these,  with  other  good  women,  were 
the  principal  members  of  old  Mount  Zion  Church.  Almost 
every  family  was  directly  or  indirectly  connected  with  the 
Indians. 

After  Marietta  was  made  a  station  there  was  no  home  for 
the  preacher  on  the  circuit,  and  it  was  a  very  difificult  problem 
to  solve.  This  generous-hearted  and  noble  membership  said: 
"We  will  take  the  preacher,  furnish  him  a  home,  and  feed  his 
family."  It  was  my  wife's  motto  not  to  become  too  friendly 
upon   short   acquaintance,   but   for  one   time  the   wary  bird 

107 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


was  caught  in  the  Indians'  trap.  These  good  women  came  to 
her  at  once  without  any  ceremony.  "We  are  not  going  to  lose 
any  time  getting  acquainted;  we  are  going  to  take  charge  of 
you  and  are  going  to  take  care  of  you,"  they  said.  She  saw 
at  once  that  they  were  sensible  and  sincere  and  entered  at  once 
into  the  unceremonious  introduction.  To  the  little  one-room, 
split-log  cabin  they  added  a  frame  addition  with  glass  win- 
dows and  a  brick  chimney.  They  also  put  articles  of  comfort 
inside.  This  is  where  they  kept  their  captive.  They  furnished 
us  with  all  needed  provisions  and  everything  to  make  us  com- 
fortable. They  soon  found  out  that  my  work  called  me  from 
home  sometimes  two  weeks  at  a  time.  As  soon  as  I  was  gone 
a  carriage  came  to  take  my  wife  to  some  of  their  homes,  and 
they  were  glad  to  have  her  visit  from  one  home  to  another. 
When  it  was  necessary  for  her  to  be  at  home  while  I  was  gone, 
she  had  company  to  stay  with  her  day  and  night.  This  was 
a  group  of  very  intelligent  women.  They  read  much  good, 
solid  literature,  including  the  Church's  periodicals.  The  Old 
Home  Circle  was  a  great  favorite  with  them. 

The  Marietta  Circuit  extended  over  considerable  territory, 
commencing  at  Smyrna,  six  miles  below  Marietta,  and  ex- 
tending to  Canton  and  Reinhardt  (Lewis  Reinhardt  lived 
there  then ) .  It  extended  back  to  the  Chattahoochee.  We  had 
about  twenty  appointments,  filled  every  two  weeks.  There 
were  four  camp  grounds:  Smyrna,  Warsaw,  Hickory  Flat, 
and  Marietta.  There  were  sixty-nine  tents  built  and  rebuilt 
at  the  Marietta  Camp  Ground,  and  they  re-covered  the  arbor. 
This  work  was  done  by  the  people  themselves  as  they  could 
spare  the  time  from  their  farms,  and  many  ejaculatory  prayers 
went  up  while  they  were  at  work.    The  camp  meeting  was  one 

io8 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


of  the  most  gracious  I  ever  attended.    I  think  there  were  fully 
one  hundred  souls  soundly  converted. 

I  was  in  charge  of  the  circuit;  but  as  I  was  not  an  elder, 
Rev.  Davis  Lowry,  a  local  elder  good  and  acceptable  in  every 
way,  was  the  supply  on  the  circuit  with  me.  My  part  was 
a  very  responsible  and  difficult  one.  There  were  old  Church 
feuds  to  settle  and  many  troubles  to  prevent,  besides  other 
cares  that  came  upon  a  preacher  in  charge.  You  ask  me  what 
this  has  to  do  with  a  tribute  to  my  wife.  I  answer:  It  has 
much  to  do.  She  accepted  the  situation,  never  murmuring, 
making  herself  very  agreeable.  So  I  never  spent  a  moment 
thinking  of  how  we  would  be  fed  or  how  she  would  be  taken 
care  of.  What  many  a  woman  might  have  made  troublesome 
she  made  pleasant. 

William  Rogers  was  a  superior  man.  Before  the  removal 
of  the  Indians,  the  government  offered  to  pay  them  for  every 
fence  rail  and  every  improvement,  and  all  who  accepted  moved 
peaceably  to  the  West.  The  money  paid  to  them  by  the  gov- 
ernment amounted  to  thousands  of  dollars.  William  Rogers 
was  one  of  the  agents  selected  by  the  Indians  to  represent  them 
at  Washington  City.  After  a  day's  transaction  with  the  offi- 
cers at  Washington,  he  went  to  his  room,  locked  his  door, 
looked  over  what  had  been  done,  and  saw  that  he  had  four 
hundred  dollars  too  much.  Though  the  door  was  locked,  the 
"old  boy"  was  there  and  told  him  that  nobody  would  know  it. 
His  reply  was:  "William  Rogers  knows  it."  The  next  day  he 
went  back,  and  the  officers  of  the  treasury  corrected  the  mis- 
take. If  it  had  been  thousands  of  dollars,  it  would  have  been 
the  same  with  William  Rogers. 

I  say  there  is  not  one  drop  of  ignoble  blood  in  a  Cherokee 
Indian's  veins;  no,  not  one.     All  things  being  equal,  he  is 

109 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


capable  in  his  intellectual  and  moral  faculties  of  the  highest 
development.  I  am  not  sure,  but  I  believe  the  Rogers  family 
are  Scotch  instead  of  English.  In  the  last  century  a  great 
many  Scotch  came  to  this  country  and  mixed  with  the  Indians. 
Their  greatest  chief,  John  Ross,  who  troubled  the  United 
States  so  long,  had  three-fourths  Scotch  blood  and  one-fourth 
Indian.  If  he  had  been  a  blonde,  it  would  never  have  been 
noticed;  but  he  was  swarthy  and  had  the  sedate  countenance 
of  an  Indian. 

no 


CHAPTER  VI 

Clarksville  Circuit,  1849 — Conversion  of  My  Father 

/^^  LARKS VILLE  was  the  county  seat  of  Habersham  Coun- 
^^  ty.  The  county  contains  quite  a  number  of  creeks,  rich 
valleys  of  land.  Mount  Yonah,  a  noted  mountain  not  connected 
with  any  range,  the  noted  waterfalls  Toccoa  (the  Cherokee 
word  for  "beautiful"),  the  great  Tallulah  Falls  (meaning 
"terrible"),  and  Nacoochee  Valley,  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
valleys  to  be  found. 

The  Methodist  Church  was  strong.  Mossy  Creek  was 
thickly  settled  by  intelligent  people^ — the  Askews,  Dorseys, 
Pitchfords,  and  others.  The  Mossy  Creek  Camp  Ground  was 
well  attended,  and  here  the  presiding  elder  baptized  twenty- 
seven  children.  Our  membership  at  Clarksville  was  not  large, 
and  many  of  our  people  were  poor.  Mr.  Reuben  Nash,  six 
feet  six  inches  tall,  was  not  a  member,  but  was  one  of  the 
best  friends  of  the  Church.  He  met  me  and  very  cordially 
said:  "All  of  your  people  are  not  prepared  to  take  care  of 
your  horse;  but  there  is  always  a  stall  ready  for  him  in  my 
stable,  and  you  are  welcome  to  come  to  my  stable  without  an 
invitation  at  any  time."  He  was  a  good  adviser  at  all  times. 
We  needed  a  superintendent  at  our  Sunday  school.  A  medi- 
cal student  boarded  with  Mr.  Nash,  and  he  suggested  that  he 
would  make  a  good  one,  and  he  did.  At  the  end  of  the  year, 
when  the  student  went  to  Augusta  to  attend  lectures,  I  gave 
him  a  letter  to  the  pastor,  who  introduced  him  at  once  to  the 
members,  and  he  was  very  kindly  treated  there.  He  was  quite 
a  success  as  a  doctor  and  became  a  valuable  local  preacher  at 

III 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


Dahlonega.  He  has  gone  to  his  reward,  and  his  name,  Dr. 
Howard,  is  kindly  remembered  by  many  people  in  that  section. 

Nacoochee  was  by  far  the  leading  Church  of  the  charge. 
There  were  many  prominent  families  there — the  Williamses, 
two  families  of  Richardsons,  not  related,  the  Browns,  and  the 
Trammels.  Major  Williams  and  his  four  sons  were  all  re- 
fined and  intelligent.  John  L.  Richardson  was  the  son  of  an 
old  patriarch,  Jesse  Richardson.  The  noted  Duke's  Creek 
Gold  Mine  was  his  property.  Sometimes  after  a  day's  wash- 
ing out  a  plateful  of  the  precious  metal  was  placed  on  the 
table  to  be  looked  at.  J.  M.  and  W.  C.  Richardson  were 
brothers,  both  good  local  preachers  and  strong  supporters  of 
the  Church.  The  Rev.  A.  Littlejohn's  wife  was  a  daughter 
of  the  old  patriarch.  When  there  was  a  deficit  in  the  last 
Quarterly  Conference,  J.  L.  Richardson  footed  the  bill,  what- 
ever it  was.  As  soon  as  the  people  heard  of  it  each  one  paid 
his  part  at  once,  and  so  it  was  with  every  item  of  Church 
expense.  The  church  building  was  one  of  the  first  framed 
with  glass  windows.  All  were  in  sympathy  with  the  pastor 
and  his  family.  The  parsonage  was  there.  Men's  shirt  bos- 
oms and  collars  were  made  at  home,  and  often  there  was  a 
misfit.  Rachel  did  her  part,  which  was  appreciated.  She 
gave  them  a  perfect  pattern. 

The  Quillian  family  was  a  very  numerous  one  in  the  coun- 
ty. I  have  been  in  touch  with  six  generations  of  them,  from 
the  oldest  grandsire  down  tO'  one  of  the  yoimgest  babes. 
There  were  three  brothers  contemporary  with  my  father: 
Clement,  a  man  of  fine  intelligence,  rather  tall  and  slender, 
with  a  swarthy  complexion;  James,  not  so  slender,  about  five 
feet  ten  inches,  of  fine  intellect,  well  balanced,  a  local  preach- 
er ;  and  Daniel,  a  stout  blonde  with  red  hair.     From  Clement 

112 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


and  James  the  multitude  of  Ouillians  came,  and  of  them  there 
have  been  more  preachers,  teachers,  lawyers,  doctors,  mer- 
chants, and  statesmen  than  of  almost  any  other  family.  Many 
of  them  were  well-to-do  in  the  world  and  were  liberal  sup- 
porters of  the  Church.  I  have  never  known  one  abjectly  poor 
or  mean.  In  many  communities  I  have  found  more  Smiths, 
sometimes  two  to  a  name,  but  the  Quillians  outnumbered  the 
Smiths  up  there. 

A  closing  word  about  the  Chattahoochee.  It  heads  but  a 
few  miles  above  Nacoochee  Valley,  where  one  can  almost  step 
across  it.  It  takes  its  name  from  a  peculiar  rock.  Take  one, 
say,  twelve  inches  long,  at  each  end  four  inches  white,  the 
middle  four  inches  black.  It  is  a  smooth  rock,  but  I  do  not 
know  the  constituents  of  it.  Many  of  them  are  small,  w^th 
white  and  black  streaks.  This  rock  gives  the  name  to  the 
Chattahoochee,  meaning  "streaked  rock." 

The  spring  of  1849  "was  especially  memorable.  On  the  fif- 
teenth day  of  April  there  was  a  heavy  snow,  extending  to  Flor- 
ida. A  heavy  frost  followed  for  several  days,  and  all  vegeta- 
tion was  killed.  The  forest  looked  as  if  it  were  draped  in 
mourning. 

My  father  always  stood  for  Churches  and  every  other  good 
thing,  but  never  in  any  way  committed  himself  as  a  member 
of  the  Church.  This  continued  till  he  began  to  grow  old. 
Mother  and  all  the  children  had  become  professors  of  religion 
and  members  of  the  Church,  and  they  prayed  for  him  daily. 
It  was  my  fifth  year  in  the  Conference,  and  Clarksville  was 
my  charge.  There  was  a  great  temperance  meeting  to  be  held 
in  Marietta.  The  late  Dr.  William  H.  Felton  was  the  elo- 
quent orator.  Chief  Justice  Joseph  H.  Lumpkin  was  one  of 
8  113 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


the  principal  speakers.  Dr.  G.  G.  Smith  spoke  to  the  children, 
who  were  arrayed  in  white.  It  was  a  great  day  for  temper- 
ance. 

The  trains  had  been  running  through  the  tunnel  to  Dalton 
a  few  weeks  before.  I  left  my  horse  and  went  up  to  see  the 
home  folks.  The  object  of  my  visit  was  to  make  one  more 
appeal  to  my  dear  father.  Heretofore,  while  he  always  treat- 
ed me  with  respect,  he  dropped  the  subject  where  I  could 
not  take  it  up.  It  was  a  mild  day  in  July.  Dinner  had  to  be 
early,  that  I  might  get  to  the  train.  When  I  arose  to  leave,  I 
threw  my  arms  around  my  father's  neck  and  made  my  appeal. 
He  said:  "O  my  son,  I  have  resolved  many  a  time  and  failed, 
but  now  I  make  my  final  resolution  and  beg  you  and  your 
mother  and  sisters  to  pray  for  me."  We  all  knelt  down  and 
prayed  fervently.  My  sister  said:  "My  dear  brother,  when 
you  leave  it  nearly  breaks  my  heart.  It  will  be  so  long  be- 
fore you  come  back  again.  But  now  I  say  good-by  gladly. 
Your  visit  has  been  so  much  blessed." 

My  father  kept  his  vow,  but  it  was  nearly  three  years  be- 
fore he  was  converted.  At  a  gracious  meeting  held  in  Union 
Hill,  where  the  Presbyterians  and  Methodists  worshiped  to- 
gether, my  father  was  a  constant  mourner,  and  the  good  men 
and  women  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  gray-haired  penitent. 
There  he  was  greatly  blessed  and  told  to  all  his  peace  and 
joy.     He  united  with  the  Presbyterian  Church. 

During  his  last  nineteen  years  father  was  one  of  the  most 
patient,  lamblike  men  and  was  grateful  for  the  least  kindness. 
He  seemed  to  have  forgotten  all  the  bright  days  of  prosperity, 
all  the  dark  days  of  adversity,  and  all  the  stormy  scenes  of 
politics.  He  received  kindness  from  his  children  and  grand- 
children and  appreciated  it  all. 

114 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


Father  and  mother  died  at  the  home  of  my  brother,  J.  C.  K. 
Cotter,  in  different  rooms,  on  September  9,  1871,  she  dying 
at  five  o'clock  and  he  at  seven.  They  rest  in  the  same  grave 
at  Stone  Church.  There  may  they  rest  in  peace  "till  He  shall 
bid  them  rise" ! 

115 


o 


CHAPTER  VII 

Canton  anp  Gainesville  Circuits,  1850-51 

UR  first  Conference  held  west  of  the  Chattahoochee  was 
at  Marietta,  on  January  9,  1850.  Bishop  Andrew  pre- 
sided. Many  people  attended,  it  being  the  first.  Bishop 
Joseph  S.  Key  closed  his  first  year  there  and  I  my  fifth.  So 
far  as  I  know,  he  and  I  are  the  only  men  living  that  were 
present  at  that  Conference.  J.  M.  Dickey,  the  father  of  Dr. 
J.  E.  Dickey,  was  then  admitted  on  trial.  When  the  appoint- 
ments were  read,  Jesse  Boring  was  named  as  superintendent 
of  the  California  Mission  and  A.  M.  Winn  as  missionary  to 
California.  I  was  appointed  to  Canton.  It  was  the  first  time 
my  name  had  appeared  in  the  appointments.  Before  it  had 
been  on  the  Marietta  Circuit,  and  I  had  served  it  in  1848. 

While  coming  up  the  banks  of  the  Etowah  we  view  a  beau- 
tiful level  spot,  "nowhere  surpassed  in  situation  for  a  city  and 
at  that  time  the  home  of  a  fine  class  of  people.  Joseph  E. 
Brown  was  a  young  lawyer  who  attained  to  great  distinction. 
He  was  the  noted  War  Governor  of  Georgia,  was  on  the  Su- 
preme Bench,  and  was  a  United  States  Senator.  Other  names 
to  be  mentioned  are:  The  Fieldses,  Donaldsons,  Gaits,  and  Gen. 
Daniel  Bird.  Three  of  the  Bird  brothers  were  in  the  Georgia 
Legislature  at  the  same  time.  Others  are:  James  Jordan,  W. 
P.  Hammond,  and  R.  J.  Cowart,  called  in  that  day  "Bob" 
Cowart.  He  had  been  a  member  of  the  Conference,  located, 
practiced  law,  and  went  into  politics  and  never  got  out.  Po- 
litical excitement  was  very  high  in  1850.  The  party  that  had 
been  at  the  top  before  went  to  the  bottom  that  year.  We  were 
building  a  good  brick  church.     Twelve  or  fifteen  hundred 

116 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


dollars  was  needed,  and  twelve  or  fifteen  men  were  called  on 
to  subscribe  one  hundred  dollars  each  tO'  finish  it.  When 
Cowart  was  asked  if  he  would  give,  he  was  told  that  if  he 
would  another  man  would  follow  his  example.  When  in 
earnest  he  had  a  musical  twang  in  his  speech.  He  said :  "Cot- 
ter, you  had  as  well  butt  your  head  against  a  brick  wall  as 
to  get  that  man  to  give  a  hundred  dollars."  The  party  gave 
it  at  once.  Cowart  was  a  very  eloquent  speaker  and  charmed 
the  people  with  sermons  or  political  speeches. 

They  had  fine  schools  in  Canton.  Dr.  Dubose  was  in 
charge  of  the  female  school.  Cherokee  County  contains  some 
very  fine  farming  lands.  One  portion  is  known  as  Hickory 
Flat,  another  Little  River  Land.  There  are  other  portions 
of  the  county  just  as  good.  These  lands  were  owned  by  a 
fine  class  of  people — McCornells,  Gunbys,  Evanses,  Parks, 
Paynes,  Freemans,  and  Bells.  Best  of  all,  we  had  many  good 
people  in  our  Church.  They  had  asked  to  be  made  a  charge 
and  doubled  the  amount  they  had  paid  to  the  Church.  They 
paid  that  year  about  what  the  old  Marietta  Circuit  had  paid. 

The  Lord  blessed  us  with  many  good  revivals,  one  at  Can- 
ton and  a  great  one  at  Little  River  Church.  The  latter  started 
in  May  and  continued  till  the  end  of  the  year.  About  sixty, 
from  ten  to  twenty  years  of  age,  were  converted.  Largus 
Bell,  one  of  the  converts,  joined  the  Alabama  Conference  and 
was  at  one  time  presiding  elder.  M.  G.  Hamby,  a  very  modest 
boy,  became  a  useful  member  of  the  Georgia  Conference.  His 
son,  W.  T.  Hamby,  at  the  time  I  write,  is  a  station  preacher  at 
Carrollton.  At  the  close  of  the  year  the  pastor  and  his  wife 
were  complimented  with  new  suits  out  and  out.  The  new 
brick  church,  having  had  a  marble  front  added,  stands  to  this 
day.    A  parsonage  had  been  bought. 

117 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


Charles  Christian  was  a  noted  man  six  feet  tall  and  weigh- 
ing two  hundred  pounds.  He  was  born  in  the  penitentiary  of 
Georgia.  His  father  was  the  principal  keeper.  Charles  pos- 
sessed the  strength  and  courage  of  a  lion  and  had  considerable 
temper.  When  a  mob  disturbed  the  peace  at  a  camp  meeting 
or  anywhere  else  and  the  officer  feared  to  meet  the  leader, 
Charles  walked  right  up  to  him  and  laid  his  hands  on  him. 
The  grace  of  God  made  him  one  of  the  most  lamblike  Chris- 
tians. I  was  his  pastor  for  three  years.  This  resulted  from 
the  changes  in  the  charges.  A  pastor  never  had  a  member 
more  helpful  than  he  was.  A  few  years  after  I  left  that  work 
he  died,  and  I  went  fifty  miles  to  preach  his  funeral. 

In  the  many  charges  where  my  lot  has  been  cast,  none  is 
cherished  with  more  loving  remembrance  than  Canton. 

Our  next  move  was  to  Gainesville  Circuit,  in  1851.  "Mc- 
Gregor was  on  his  native  heath."  My  father  had  selected  and 
named  the  place.  Nineteen  years  before,  in  my  ninth  year,  I 
had  left  the  county.  A  cordial  reception  was  given  us  by 
many  of  the  old  citizens.  According  to  the  number  of  mem- 
bers of  the  Church,  nowhere  else  were  there  so  many  good 
women  to  be  found.  A  long  list  would  be  required  to  give  all 
the  names,  but  here  are  a  few:  Mesdames  Banks,  Rivers, 
Good,  Thompson,  McAfee,  Lovick  P.  Thomas,  Peoples,  and 
Graham. 

Our  membership  contained  some  leading  men,  including 
Brother  Johnson,  a  lawyer,  and  Brother  Graham,  who  was  my 
first  school-teacher.  The  most  distinguished  man  was  Dr. 
Richard  Banks,  a  graduate  of  the  university  and  of  a  medical 
school.  He  was  the  most  widely  known  man  in  that  part  of 
the  State,  and  sometimes  he  rode  a  hundred  miles  to  perform 
an  operation.     He  came  all  the  way  to  Murray  County  to 

118 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


remove  a  tumor  from  a  lady's  breast.  My  mother  was  pres- 
ent. His  temperament  was  of  a  marvelous  combination.  He 
performed  an  operation  with  a  perfectly  steady  hand,  yet  he 
was  tender  and  emotional.  One  morning,  before  anv  of  the 
family  had  gotten  up,  one  of  the  servants  had  made  a  fire.  A 
little  daughter  three  years  of  age  jumped  out  of  her  bed  and 
ran  to  the  fire.  Standing  in  front  of  it,  her  nightgown  caught 
fire,  and  she  was  burned  to  death.  At  different  times  he  tried 
to  relate  the  circumstance  to  me;  but  always  the  words  were 
choked,  and  he  never  finished.  He  was  a  class  leader;  and 
if  any  of  the  young  members  violated  the  rules  of  the  Church 
and  he  had  to  report  them,  the  report  was  prefaced  with  some 
palliating  excuse — maybe  the  young  man  had  been  surrounded 
by  unfavorable  circumstances,  etc.  It  would  not  be  saying  too 
much  to  state  that  Dr.  Banks  was  an  oculist  fifty  years  in 
advance  of  his  profession.  He  not  only  discovered  many 
troubles  of  the  eye,  but  he  invented  delicate  instruments  by 
which  they  could  be  removed.  Dr.  Westmoreland,  a  lead- 
ing surgeon  in  Atlanta,  told  me  that  years  ago,  when  he  was 
a  young  man,  he  rode  fifty  miles  and  stayed  a  week  or  more 
to  receive  instructions  from  Dr.  Banks.  Banks  County  is 
named  in  honor  of  Dr.  Banks. 

Dr.  Banks  was  a  devout  worker  in  the  Church.  We  had  a 
gracious  meeting  in  Gainesville.  He  was  at  the  altar  much  of 
the  time  encouraging  the  penitents.  At  one  time  Brother 
Graham  was  richly  blessed.  He  sat  on  the  floor  thanking  the 
Lord  for  the  blessing.  The  Inferior  Court  met  then  about 
once  every  six  months  and  continued  about  a  week.  The  in- 
fluence of  the  meeting  closed  the  court  on  Wednesday,  and 
the  sheriff  was  received  into  the  Church.     One  of  the  con- 

119 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


verts,  then  about  fourteen  years  old,  was  Dr.  J.  R.  Graham, 
now  of  Dalton. 

It  may  be  said  that  we  had  a  good  year  all  the  way  round. 
At  its  close  my  family  went  to  stay  at  my  father's  while  I 
went  to  Conference.  A  most  fatal  fire  destroyed  three 
squares  of  the  town  and  the  courthouse.  Our  books,  bedding, 
and  all  we  had  went  up  in  flames.  I  received  notice  of  it 
while  at  Conference  and  sent  it  to  my  wife.  Our  little  boy 
said:  "And  the  trundle-bed  is  gone!" 

Twenty-six  years  afterwards  the  first  Conference  was  held 
at  Gainesville,  and  I  was  the  guest  of  Sister  Banks.  The  Doc- 
tor had  been  dead  a  number  of  years,  and  she  was  quite  an 
old  lady.  Fifty-seven  years  after  my  pastorate  I  took  part 
in  the  memorial  service,  the  last  held  in  the  old  church,  and 
also  in  the  opening  of  the  splendid  new  church.  The  Confer- 
ence was  held  that  year  in  Gainesville.  Bishop  Hoss  asked 
me  to  take  the  chair  and  preside  over  the  Conference  for  a 
little  while.  This  would  not  be  mentioned  but  that  it  was  at 
Gainesville.  When  I  was  eighty-six  years  old,  I  dedicated  a 
nice  church  at  Gillsville,  in  sight  of  where  I  was  born.  While 
there  the  thought  came  tO'  me  that  that  was  the  ground  my 
feet  first  trod  upon.  That  was  my  last  visit  to  dear  old  Hall 
County. 

Rev,  Jackson  P.  Turner  was  born  in  Gwinnett  County  in 
1823.  At  eighteen  years  of  age  he  started  learning  the  car- 
penter's trade  at  Roswell  Factory,  in  Cobb  Coimty,  when  the 
first  buildings  were  erected.  The  workmen  lodged  together, 
and  after  supper  they  spent  their  hours  together  telling  yams. 
Turner's  worst  habit  was  profanity,  but  a  deep  conviction  fas- 
tened on  his  conscience.  One  of  the  young  men,  a  devout 
Christian,  gave  him  the  "Life  of  Carvosso,"  which  led  him 

120 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


to  trust  in  Christ.  His  conversion  was  clear  and  satisfactory, 
and  his  call  to  preach  soon  afterwards  was  also  clear.  Mr. 
Ball  released  him  from  his  apprenticeship ;  and  he  made  good 
use  of  the  year,  beginning  with  the  schoolbooks.  This  was 
in  1 84 1.  He  was  admitted  to  the  Conference  at  the  end  of 
the  year.  His  first  appointment  was  as  junior  preacher  on 
the  Dahlonega  Circuit  in  1842,  the  same  on  the  McDonough 
Circuit  in  1843,  junior  in  Augusta  in  1844,  in  charge  at  Da- 
rien  in  1845,  stationed  at  Marietta  in  1846,  in  charge  of  Mon- 
ticello  Circuit  in  1847,  stationed  at  Milledgeville  in  1848,  and 
presiding  elder  on  the  Gainesville  District  in  1849,  where  he 
continued  for  four  years.  In  1853  he  was  stationed  in  Au- 
gusta. In  1854  he  was  presiding  elder  on  the  Columbus  Dis- 
trict, where  he  started  off  with  good  prospects  for  the  year. 
He  lived  at  Talbotton.  In  July  the  fatal  fever  came.  He 
lingered  for  about  four  weeks.  Clear  in  his  mind,  with  his 
last  message  to  his  brethren  he  told  Brother  Hinton  to  tell 
them  that  he  had  labored  with  them  in  love  for  twelve  years 
and  was  leaving  them  with  a  sweet  hope  of  heaven.  He 
married  Miss  Jane  Fayette,  of  Clarkesville,  in  1850  and  left 
her  with  two  little  boys.  His  mind  was  one  of  the  best.  He 
became  a  good  Latin  and  Greek  scholar,  with  a  smattering  of 
the  Hebrew  language.  He  was  well  up  in  history  and  the 
poets.  He  was  a  very  able  preacher  and  presiding  officer. 
He  was  of  medium  size,  had  a  fine  face  and  voice  and  beautiful 
blue  eyes.  He  was  my  presiding  elder  for  three  years.  We 
were  close  friends,  and  I  feel  it  an  obligation  to  say  what  I 
have  here  said. 

121 


PART  THREE 

PASTORAL  SERVICE  (CONTINUED)  AND  WAR 

TIMES 


CHAPTER  I 

Watkinsville  and  Carnesville  Circuits,  1852-54 

npHE  next  charge  was  the  Watkinsville  Circuit.  This  was 
a  large  circuit,  embracing  Clarke  and  Jackson  Counties 
and  extending  from  Green  County  to  Hall  County.  Much  of 
Clarke  County  was  between  the  Oconee  and  Apalachee  Rivers 
and  was  very  rich  land.  It  had  made  many  people  rich — the 
Branches,  Swinneys,  Thrashes,  Williamsons,  and  others. 

We  were  total  strangers,  spending  the  night  with  Brother 
Johnson.  Dinner  over,  we  walked  to  the  parsonage  and  found 
it  all  ready,  with  good  fires  burning.  With  other  things  we 
were  glad  to  see,  there  was  a  trundle-bed  for  the  children.  It 
was  January  19,  1852,  a  cold  day.  The  weather  calendars  have 
since  recorded  but  few  spells  as  cold.  Watkinsville  was  a 
small  town,  but  it  was  the  place  of  the  courthouse  of  Clarke 
County.  Athens,  Salem,  and  Farmington  were  centers  of  fine 
schools.  The  people,  many  of  them,  were  well  off,  intelligent, 
and  hospitable,  and  many  of  them  the  best  Christians  I  have 
found  anywhere.  These  were  the  palmiest  days  of  our  dear 
old  South.  Great  freedom  existed  between  the  town  and  the 
country  people.  Athens  was  a  classic  city — not  a  large  com- 
mercial town,  but  no  one  was  known  by  his  title.  Howell 
Cobb  had  been  one  of  the  President's  Cabinet  and  Governor 
of  the  State,  but  everybody  called  him  Howell  Cobb.  Judge 
Dougherty,  of  the  Superior  Court,  was  called  Charles.  And 
so  it  was  at  Watkinsville.  Bishop  Haygood's  father,  a  lawyer, 
was  called  Green.  Judge  Jackson  was  called  Meeks.  Dr. 
Durham  was  called  Milledge.  And  so  it  went  around — Calvin 
Johnson  and  Isaac  Vinson.     Even  the  ladies  were  called  by 

125 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


their  given  names.  The  Bishop's  mother  was  called  Martha. 
Mrs.  Johnson  was  called  Matilda.  It  was  customary  in  those 
days  to  call  the  preacher's  wife  "Aunt"  or  "Sister,"  but  they 
said  they  were  going  to  call  Rachel  "Rachel" ;  so  everybody 
called  her  "Rachel,"  just  as  if  she  had  lived  there  all  the 
time.  Really,  if  it  was  not  an  honorary  degree,  it  meant 
marked  respect. 

Quite  a  revival  spirit  was  developing  in  the  first  of  the 
year,  and  Rachel  entered  heartily  into  it.  During  our  second 
year  Mrs.  Gouedy  paid  us  a  visit.  Her  noble  heart  was  moved 
when  she  met  the  lone  girl.  Really  their  meeting  moved  all 
who  witnessed  it  to  tears.  A  mother  could  scarcely  have 
appreciated  all  the  surroundings  more — the  high  esteem  in 
which  Rachel  was  held,  the  comfortable  parsonage — yes,  all 
the  surroundings.  Mrs.  Gouedy  was  no  dyspeptic  and  en- 
joyed well-prepared  meats  and  vegetables  for  the  table  and  a 
dessert  to  follow.  She  said:  "Rachel,  you  didn't  know  much 
about  cooking  when  you  were  with  me.  How  about  all  these 
good  things  to  eat?"  The  answer  was:  "I  would  have  been 
a  very  dull  learner  if  I  had  not  learned  something  by  this  time." 
And  she  had  learned  how  to  prepare  the  best  things  for  the 
table.  Whether  prepared  by  herself  or  her  cook,  she  saw 
everything  before  it  reached  the  table.  For  herself,  she  was 
very  fond  of  variety.  Her  good  friend's  visit  was  very  much 
appreciated. 

Ten  years  afterwards,  going  to  Conference  at  Athens,  I 
spent  the  night  with  Brother  Johnson.  Sister  Johnson  said: 
"We  have  had  good  preachers  and  good  preachers'  wives 
since  you  left  us,  but  none  have  attained  to  Rachel's  stand- 
ard. The  best  thing  we  can  say  to  them  is  that  they  do  like 
Rachel.     She  took  good  care  of  things  in  the  parsonage  and 

126 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


always  kept  it  in  such  good  order.  She  was  cheerful  when 
you  were  gone  on  your  long  stays  from  home  and  gave  strict 
attention  to  everything  that  would  help  you  in  your  work." 
Surely  she  deserved  the  highest  tribute  of  praise,  and  it  made 
my  heart  glad  to  hear  it. 

John  Calvin  Johnson  was  a  great  and  good  character.  He 
was  bom  in  North  Carolina  and  was  educated  in  a  fine  clas- 
sic school.  Of  the  thirteen  in  his  class,  eleven  were  bright 
boys.  Two  were  plodders  and  were  the  only  ones  that  at- 
tained to  high  distinction — one  a  judge  of  the  Superior  Court 
and  the  other  the  Governor  of  the  State.  Had  Calvin  so 
aimed,  he  was  capable  of  filling  any  place.  He  was  clerk  of 
the  Superior  Court  nearly  forty  years,  was  one  of  the  best 
stewards  in  the  Church,  and  was  a  local  preacher  acceptable 
at  any  time  to  the  Church  in  Athens.  Much  of  his  preaching 
was  done  for  the  negroes.  A  widow  whose  neighbor  was  giv- 
ing her  trouble  about  her  land  lines  asked  Brother  Johnson 
what  lawyer  she  should  employ.  He  said:  "Don't  get  a  law- 
yer. I  know  all  the  papers ;  and  if  you  lose,  I'll  pay  the  cost." 
Soon  afterwards  she  won  her  case  in  court  and  wanted  to 
pay  Brother  Johnson  something  for  his  advice.  He  said:  "I 
am  amply  paid  to  think  that  that  mean  man  who  troubled  a 
widow  lost  his  case."  She  said:  "But  I  must  make  you  a  pres- 
ent. Let  the  tailor  take  your  measure  and  make  you  a  suit  of 
clothes  out  of  the  finest  cloth." 

On  a  Christmas  morning  a  negro  called  at  the  gate  to  see 
"Mars'  Calvin,"  and  when  he  went  out  he  saw  a  negro  with 
a  bread  tray.  The  negro  said:  "Uncle  Jim  made  this  bread 
tray,  and  it's  a  nice  one.  Mars'  Calvin,  you've  been  so  good 
to  preach  to  us  negroes,  and  we  want  you  to  continue  to 
preach  for  us."     Calvin  thanked  him  and  said  he  would  try 

127 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


to  do  so.  He  said  he  made  a  suit  of  clothes  by  pleading 
law  and  a  bread  tray  by  preaching.  Dear  Brother  Johnson 
was  a  great  and  genial  soul;  and  Matilda,  his  wife,  was  one 
of  the  most  consecrated  Christians.  Long  since  they  have 
gone  to  their  reward. 

A  gracious  revival  spread  over  the  whole  work,  and  more 
than  five  hundred  members  were  received  into  the  Church. 
At  old  Dry  Pond  Camp  Meeting  eight  hundred  dollars  was 
received  for  missions.  The  whole  amount  raised  that  year 
was  nine  hundred  and  sixty  dollars.  Rev.  J.  H.  Grogan,  a 
young  man  of  fine  promise,  rendered  great  assistance  to  the 
work  that  year. 

I  was  returned  to  the  same  work  the  next  year.  The  rule 
then  was  to  receive  members  into  full  fellowship  after  six 
months'  probation.  Those  who  had  joined  were  received  that 
year,  almost  every  one  of  them. 

My  colleague  the  second  year  was  J.  R.  Little  John,  then  in 
his  fourth  year  in  the  Conference.  He  was  a  good  preacher 
and  was  well  received  by  the  people.  He  was  placed  in  charge 
of  that  work  the  next  year. 

Brother  Grogan  was  a  man  of  fine  judgment  and  attained 
good  standing  in  the  Conference,  and  so  did  Brother  Little- 
john.  At  the  time  of  this  writing  his  son,  Littlejohn,  is  judge 
of  the  Superior  Court  at  Sumter,  Georgia. 

In  1854  Carnesville,  Franklin  County,  was  my  work.  The 
county  seat  was  a  small  town.  A  very  large  stronghold 
of  Methodism  was  Bold  Spring.  It  was  the  home  of  one 
of  our  great  leaders  of  the  Conference,  William  J.  Parks. 
Wesley  Mayfield,  a  large  planter,  held  his  membership  there. 
Rev.  Jackson  Oliver,  a  local  preacher,  the  Shannons,  Squire 
Gunnells,  and  other  good  families  were  there.     To  have  the 

128 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


pastor  in  their  midst,  they  made  a  very  unfortunate  selection 
for  their  parsonage.  It  was  a  new  building,  fairly  well  fur- 
nished, but  at  the  edge  of  an  old  field,  with  a  deep  forest  on 
the  other  side  and  no  human  habitation  in  sight.  My  heart 
sank  when  I  saw  it.  But  few  women  would  have  met  it  as 
bravely  as  Rachel  did.  That  year  one  of  our  children  died, 
and  another  was  bom.  The  people  were  as  kind  as  they 
could  be.    We  had  a  fairly  good  year. 

My  colleague  was  Rev.  I.  G.  Worley,  a  good  young  man, 
but  possessed  of  some  eccentricities.  For  the  only  time,  a 
request  was  made  for  removal. 

9  129 


CHAPTER  II 

Warrenton  and  a  Visit  Home,  1855-56 

npHE  next  charge,  in  1855,  was  Warrenton,  about  fifty  miles 
north  of  Augusta.  The  county  has  its  own  marked  indi- 
viduality in  many  respects.  The  soil  generally  is  good,  and 
the  property  is  more  equally  divided  than  is  found  elsewhere. 
Few  were  very  rich  and  few  very  poor.  The  people  were 
prompt  in  paying  their  debts.  Methodism  had  a  pretty  good 
following  there.  Thomson,  then  a  good  town,  forty  miles 
above  Augusta,  was  one  of  the  appointments.  The  old  log 
house  of  v/orship  was  just  a  little  out  of  town.  That  year  they 
erected  a  very  good  frame  building  in  town.  A  teacher  noted 
for  handling  bad  boys  had  a  school  of  perhaps  a  hundred.  It 
was  known  as  Greenway  Institute.  When  the  new  church 
was  opened,  the  teacher  and  his  boys  attended  for  two  nights, 
and  the  boys  behaved  well.  Later  a  number  of  boys  attended 
without  the  teacher  and  behaved  badly.  The  next  night  they 
came  and  behaved  no  better.  It  was  against  my  rule  to 
reprove  in  the  church,  but  forbearance  was  no  longer  a  vir- 
tue. Striving  not  to  show  anger  in  voice  or  word,  a  reproof 
was  given.  There  was  no  more  unbecoming  behavior  in  the 
church.  Taking  meals  at  the  different  boarding  houses,  I 
was  surprised  at  the  courteous  treatment  given  by  the  boys. 
That  was  not  explained  to  me  for  five  or  six  years.  One  of 
the  students  at  that  time  afterwards  graduated  at  Emory 
College  and  entered  the  Conference,  of  which  I  was  very 
glad.  He  failed  in  no  point  to  be  one  of  the  most  attractive 
men.  I  greeted  his  coming.  He  said  to  me:  "You  gave  me 
the  most  severe  reproof  I  ever  received  in  my  life."  I  replied: 
"No,    I   never   saw  anything  in  you  to   reprove."     He  an- 

130 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


swered:  "When  a  man  looks  at  me  and  shoots  his  words  at 
me  like  bullets,  I  imderstand  what  he  means."  I  said:  "I  give 
it  up."  Then  he  said:  "Do  you  remember  reproving  some 
boys  at  Greenway  Institute?"  My  answer  was:  "I  remember 
it  very  well.  It  was  a  most  unpleasant  duty."  He  told  me 
that  after  dark  the  boys  held  an  indignation  meeting.  One 
suggested  that  they  take  off  the  preacher's  buggy  wheel  and 
put  it  in  the  pond,  and  another  said  that  they  should  meet  him 
in  the  dark  and  "cuss  him  out."  At  last  one  said:  "Boys, 
every  word  he  said  was  the  truth,  and  he  showed  no  irrita- 
bility. I  suggest  that  we  be  Mr.  Cotter's  friends."  "Agreed," 
said  the  others.  That  accounted  for  their  politeness  at  the 
table  where  I  visited.  Dr.  Hopkins  was  the  one  who  told  me 
this,  and  I  think  he  was  the  boy  who  had  made  the  proposi- 
tion. He  became  a  professor  and  President  of  Emory  Col- 
lege, was  the  founder  of  the  Technological  School  in  Atlanta, 
and  was  one  of  the  most  attractive  preachers  in  Georgia.  All 
in  all,  he  was  a  most  lovable  character. 

Warrenton  had  a  fine  dry  goods  trade,  drawing  customers 
from  all  aroimd.  There  were  quite  a  nmnber  of  lawyers  lo- 
cated there.  Judges  Gibson  and  E.  H.  Pottle  both  presided  in 
the  Superior  Court  for  a  number  of  years.  Dr.  R.  W.  Hubert 
was  one  of  the  leading  physicians.  He  was  well  posted  on 
medical  jurisprudence,  never  letting  a  lawyer  tangle  him.  He 
and  Rev.  Amos  Johnson  were  local  preachers  and  leaders  in 
all  Church  matters.  Brother  Johnson  was  large  and  had  a 
coarse  voice,  but  he  had  good  judgment  and  a  good  heart. 
Johnson's  relatives  composed  his  Church,  one  of  the  largest 
memberships  in  the  circuit.  They  often  had  difficulties  to 
settle,  and  Amos  came  down  and  settled  them.  We  needed  a 
junior  preacher.     The  matter  was  submitted  to  Amos.     His 

131  - 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


answer  was:  "I'll  see  Dr.  Hubert."  When  it  was  mentioned 
to  Dr.  Hubert,  his  answer  was:  "I'll  see  Amos  Johnson."  If 
they  agreed,  the  matter  went;  and  if  not,  the  matter  did  not 
go.    We  had  two  fairly  good  years  there. 

I  had  been  asked  the  second  year  to  speak  on  the  Fourth 
of  July.  When  the  day  came  I  was  in  bed  with  a  fever,  and 
was  not  out  till  the  first  of  August.  About  the  first  of  Sep- 
tember my  wife  took  the  fever  and  was  seriously  ill.  At  one 
time  for  four  days  all  chances  for  recovery  seemed  gone. 
Then  Dr.  Hubert  said:  "Sister  Cotter  is  going  to  get  well." 
Soon  we  were  both  sound  and  well  again. 

Let  something  be  said  here  about  the  negroes.  We  had 
three  or  four  colored  preachers,  all  good  men.  Clack  was 
above  the  ordinary  in  natural  gifts  and  was  in  great  favor 
with  the  whites.  At  three  o'clock  on  Sunday  they  had  the 
house  full  and  had  good  preaching  and  the  loudest  and  best 
singing. 

I  will  tell  how  I  was  "sold  out"  at  one  time.  At  Newark, 
New  Jersey,  there  was  a  fine  church  to  be  dedicated,  and  one 
of  their  foremost  preachers  came  to  see  Bishop  Pierce.  He 
came  to  my  home  to  inquire  about  the  way.  At  that  time 
there  was  much  published  in  the  papers  about  a  noted  im- 
postor. Suspicion  was  that  he  might  be  the  man.  I  went  with 
him  to  the  livery  stable,  but  told  the  keeper  to  charge  nothing 
to  me.  With  a  two-horse  team  he  went  the  sixteen  miles  to 
the  Bishop's  residence.  As  soon  as  he  returned  I  asked  the 
driver  about  his  arrival,  and  his  answer  was  that  they  shook 
hands  and  scraped  and  bowed.  He  said  he  left  after  that. 
At  the  appointed  time  the  Bishop  went.  President  Franklin 
Pierce  learned  of  the  Bishop's  visit  and  invited  him  to  call 
and  see  him.    Neither  of  these  dignitaries  of  Church  and  State 

132 


MY    AUTOBI OGRAP  H Y 


had  any  taste  for  sham  and  show.  The  President  was  a  de- 
vout Christian,  having  family  prayer  morning  and  evening. 
His  name  goes  down  in  history  as  being  the  most  eloquent 
President  we  have  ever  had.  The  principal  question  before 
them  was  to  see  if  they  were  not  distant  cousins.  The  Bish- 
op's sermon  at  the  dedication  was  one  of  his  happiest  efforts, 
and  a  great  collection  followed.  There  were  several  of  us 
who  greatly  enjoyed  his  report  of  it  when  he  returned. 

Fifty-two  years  afterwards  I  assisted  in  dedicating  a  new 
church  that  was  built  where  liquor  had  been  sold  when  I  was 
there  the  first  time.  Amos  Johnson  and  hundreds  of  others 
were  gone.  Dr.  Hubert  was  still  alive,  and  we  met  like  broth- 
ers.    Of  course  he  is  now  gone. 

Good-by,  dear  old  Warrenton ! 

Again  and  again  mother  told  us  to  be  honest,  strictly  hon- 
est to  the  worth  of  a  pin,  and  truthful  in  everything ;  to  avoid 
evil  associations  and  to  associate  with  good  people;  told  us 
that  everybody  could  not  be  wise  or  rich,  but  that  everybody 
could  do  right  and  tell  the  truth.  I  have  heard  her  say  many 
times:  "I  would  go  to  my  grave  with  sorrow  in  my  heart  if 
one  of  my  children  should  do  a  disgraceful  thing."  She  told 
us  to  be  kind  and  affectionate  toward  one  another;  that  all 
fusses  were  bad,  but  that  a  family  fuss  was  the  worst.  She 
said  to  us:  "It  won't  be  long  till  you  are  grown  and  separated 
from  one  another."  Her  precious  words  were  not  lost  upon 
us.  We  grew  up  lovingly  together.  We  have  been  widely 
separated.  Three,  we  trust,  are  in  the  home  above,  and  three 
others  are  striving  to  get  there. 

Leaving  home  is  a  sad  day  to  all  who  properly  consider  it. 
It  was  so  to  me.  My  plans  were  made  to  enter  the  old  Georgia 
Conference.     The  morning  appointed  to  leave  was  a  cold, 

133 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


cloudy  one  in  January,  1845.  Mother  was  the  last  one  to  kiss 
my  cheek  and  press  me  to  her  bosom,  and  my  heart  responds 
to  that  loving  embrace  to  this  day. 

In  the  years  that  followed,  my  visits  home  were  made  an- 
nually for  a  time ;  but  when  my  family  became  larger  and  my 
appointments  were  a  long  way  off,  we  sometimes  made  visits 
once  in  two  years,  then  it  became  four.  In  1856  my  visit  was 
planned  for  the  first  of  July;  but  Providence  willed  it  other- 
wise, for  when  the  time  came  I  was  in  bed  with  fever.  So 
letters  to  the  dear  ones  at  home  had  to  take  the  place  of  the 
visit. 

Waynesboro  was  my  charge  for  1857  and  1858.  The  pas- 
tor and  people  were  total  strangers  tO'  each  other,  and  I  waited 
till  the  fall  of  1857  to  make  my  visit  home.  Leaving  Waynes- 
boro via  Augusta  and  Atlanta  and  on  to  Dalton,  the  schedules 
were  not  reliable.  I  got  off  the  train  at  Catoosa  platform  at 
4  A.M.  There  was  nothing  there  but  the  platform,  the  spring 
being  three  miles  away.  With  grip  in  hand,  I  started  for  a 
two-mile  walk.  I  opened  Mr.  Taylor's  big  gate  and  found 
the  path  leading  through  the  field  and  crossed  Tiger  Creek  on 
a  foot  log.  In  a  short  time  my  journey  was  at  an  end.  The 
chickens  had  done  their  loudest  crowing  and  were  nearly 
ready  to  fly  down  from  their  roosts.  By  the  gray  light  of  the 
morning  I  could  distinguish  different  objects.  Everything 
was  silent.  The  very  depths  of  my  heart  were  stirred.  It 
came  upon  me  in  a  moment.  It  was  there  that  I  had  the 
biggest  and  sweetest  cry  for  joy  in  my  life.  I  realized  that  in 
a  moment  I  would  see  my  precious  mother  again.  The  next 
moment  they  were  all  up  and  crying  for  joy,  and  then  I 
laughed  for  joy.  Those  at  home  were  mother  and  father  and 
two  sisters.     All  were  well.     We  felt  sad  to  see  father  and 

134 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


motlier  growing  old.  We  could  see  that  the  hand  of  Time  had 
numbered  more  gray  hairs  on  their  heads  and  more  lines  upon 
their  faces.  Upon  all  these  happy  occasions  each  one  did 
what  he  could  to  make  them  pleasant. 

Like  all  good  mothers,  mother  thought  of  the  best  things 
for  us  to  eat.  If  the  visit  was  in  the  summer,  she  would  tell 
me  about  her  chickens,  which  were  fat  and  fine.  Then  she 
would  want  us  to  go  to  the  spring  house  and  see  the  hard 
cakes  of  butter  and  the  bowls  of  rich  cream.  Next  she  would 
show  us  her  honey  in  the  comb.  If  the  visit  was  made  in  the 
winter,  she  had  the  finest  turkey  cooked  the  best  and  the  rich- 
est dressing  and  gravy.  She  would  say:  'T  have  made  some 
of  the  best  sausage  you  ever  tasted."  I  have  never  eaten  as 
good  corn  light  bread  as  she  made.  This  time  the  great  sen- 
sation was  her  little  black-and-white-spotted  cow,  long-bodied, 
deep  in  the  flanks,  with  short  legs,  which  gave  six  gallons  of 
rich  milk  every  day.  I  saw  it  with  my  own  eyes.  After  a 
day's  rest  I  asked  them  what  they  were  going  to  do  for  fire- 
wood. It  was  late  in  October,  and  the  frost  had  already 
turned  the  leaves  red.  There  was  plenty  of  wood — oak,  hick- 
ory, and  ash — near  by.  They  said  to  me :  "Don't  worry  about 
that.  You  haven't  been  here  long,  and  we  want  you  to  enjoy 
your  visit."  I  said :  "Yes,  it's  been  more  than  four  years,  and 
I've  come  over  three  himdred  miles  to  make  this  visit,  and  I 
want  to  get  all  I  can  out  of  it.  I've  learned  that  what  I  don't 
put  much  into  I  don't  get  much  out  of."  So,  with  sharp  axes 
and  hands  and  wagons,  laying  off  my  coat,  I  set  to  work. 
In  two  days  we  had  enough  wood  and  lightwood  to  do  for 
the  winter  and  the  following  summer. 

The  visits  were  never  so  far  apart  after  that.  I  returned 
home  and  found  them  all  well. 

135 


CHAPTER  III 

Waynesboro  and  Sandersville,  1857-60 

/^N  the  Waynesboro  Circuit  in  1857  and  1858  we  found  a 
very  pleasant  home  at  Alexander,  a  nice  little  town  with  a 
good  school  and  churches.  The  parsonage  was  well  located 
and  had  attractive  surroundings.  Among  other  things,  there 
was  a  fine  garden,  with  a  nice  patch  of  raspberries  on  frames. 
Rachel  said:  'T  am  going  to  learn  something  about  the  gar- 
den. When  you  are  gone,  a  hand  comes  and  works  it,  and  I 
don't  know  whether  it  is  right  or  wrong,  and  he  doesn't." 

Our  nearest  neighbor,  Mrs.  Oscar  Shewmake,  always  known 
as  Susan  Shewmake,  said:  "Sister  Cotter,  I  find  you  want  to 
learn  something  about  the  garden,  and  I  do  too."  So'  they  got 
the  gardener's  guidebook  and  studied  it  faithfully.  It  was 
like  the  children  coming  home  from  school  telling  about  their 
lessons  and  how  they  had  studied  grammar,  geography,  etc. 
I  heard  it  and  remember  it  to  this  day.  My  wife  said:  "Well, 
I  can  tell  you  about  the  garden.  First,  it  must  be  made  very 
rich,  then  broken  up  deep  and  thoroughly,  and  raked  off  well. 
The  lines  must  be  as  diametrically  straight  as  the  line  that 
divides  a  circle  in  halves.  They  must  be  exactly  the  same 
distance  apart.  For  English  peas  the  rows  must  go  east  and 
west.  Dig  a  deep  trench  and  pile  the  dirt  all  up  on  the  north 
side.  Cover  the  peas  with  but  little  earth  at  first.  While 
they  are  young  the  dirt  on  the  north  side  will  protect  them 
from  the  cold.  As  the  weather  turns  warm,  fill  the  ditch  with 
the  dirt,  and  the  peas  will  be  green  longer.  Save  the  first 
beans  and  other  vegetables  for  seed."     Ever  after  that  she 

136 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


had  a  list  for  planting  and  saw  to  the  planting  of  the  garden 
and  enjoyed  it. 

It  was  the  custom  in  those  days  for  people  to  lay  in  their 
meat  for  the  year.  On  the  very  day  we  arrived  J.  A.  Shew- 
make,  one  of  the  best  of  stewards,  asked  me  what  I  wanted 
to  do  about  meat.  I  told  him,  and  he  had  some  meat  slaugh- 
tered for  me  that  evening,  about  half  what  I  wanted.  In 
those  days  we  bought  drove  hogs  from  Tennessee  and  Ken- 
tucky. There  were  some  there  then,  and  I  added  all  we 
wanted.  I  knew  all  about  taking  care  of  meat,  getting  the 
animal  heat  out,  and  then  salting  it  well.  My  father's  rule 
was  to  use  plenty  of  salt  and  save  the  salt  and  meat  too. 
After  it  was  hung  up  and  smoked,  then  was  the  time  to  save 
the  hams  from  skippers.  Rachel  had  the  rule  for  that.  She 
had  a  large  washpot,  with  boiling  water  and  red  pepper  and 
other  things  in  it.  Then  she  saw  every  ham  prepared  and 
put  away.  Even  after  that  she  would  say:  "We  are  on  our 
last  ham,  and  I  have  examined  every  one  and  have  not  found 
a  single  skipper." 

Waynesboro  was  one  of  the  best  places  in  which  to  live 
that  I  have  ever  found.  Being  only  a  short  distance  from  the 
Savannah  River,  we  could  have  shad  every  day  during  the 
season  for  them.  Brier  Creek  and  other  streams  were  fine 
for  fishing  with  hook  and  line.  My  oldest  son,  a  careful  boy 
with  his  gun,  brought  in  partridges  and  some  swamp  birds, 
also  some  squirrels  from  the  post  oak  ridges  near  by.  It  was 
only  thirty  miles  from  Augusta,  from  where  we  could  lay  in 
all  our  groceries  for  the  year  at  one  time. 

Few  counties  had  more  negroes  than  Burke,  and  no  people 
were  better  to  their  slaves.  They  provided  for  one  of  the  best 
preachers  in  the  Conference  to  serve  them.     The  leading  men 

137 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


of  the  county  were  stewards  to  see  to  his  support,  and  his 
salary  was  about  equal  to  their  own  pastor's.  He  preached 
to  them,  visited  their  sick,  buried  their  dead,  administered  the 
communion  to  them,  and  served  them  in  every  good  way.  It 
was  a  reproach  to  any  man's  character  if  he  did  not  feed  and 
clothe  his  negroes  and  treat  them  humanely. 

In  speaking  of  a  good  man's  character  in  that  community 
they  would  not  only  say  that  he  was  good  to  his  family  and 
friends,  but  also  to  his  negroes.  Hardly  have  I  found  an- 
other place  where  the  rich  and  the  poor  were  on  the  same 
equality.  The  standard  of  high  Christian  character  I  have 
never  seen  surpassed  anywhere. 

We  had  a  measure  of  success  all  round  the  circuit.  We 
built  a  church  at  Waynesboro,  and  Bishop  Pierce  dedicated  it. 
In  many  places  we  had  gracious  revivals  of  religion,  the 
greatest  perhaps  at  Old  Church,  six  miles  south  of  Waynes- 
boro. A  church  was  built  there  under  the  auspices  of  King 
George  of  England  before  the  Revolutionary  War.  The  bat- 
tle known  in  history  as  the  battle  of  Brier  Creek  was  fought 
on  that  sacred  spot.  In  1855  we  built  a  nice  church  there. 
The  old  church  was  torn  down,  and  many  musket  balls  were 
found  in  its  timbers.  Our  meeting  there  in  1858  was  a  most 
gracious  one.  All  political  feuds  were  reconciled,  and  many 
members  of  the  Church  took  on  new  growth  and  devotion. 
As  everywhere  else,  Rachel  made  new  and  lasting  friends 
there.  The  limit  of  our  stay  came,  and  we  had  to  leave.  No- 
where else  in  our  wanderings  did  we  spend  two  more  pleasant 
years  than  at  Alexander. 

Burke  is  enchanted  and  historic  ground,  not  only  because 
the  battle  of  Brier  Creek  was  fought  there,  but  the  first  Meth- 
odist preachers  that  crossed  the  Savannah,  Humphreys  and 

138 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


Majors,  made  a  lasting  impression  for  good.  Many  of  the 
leading  men  of  the  county  were  members  of  our  Church. 
Judge  A.  J.  Lawson,  for  many  years  a  member  of  the  Legisla- 
ture, J.  J.  Jones,  at  one  time  a  member  of  Congress,  J.  B. 
Jones,  a  graduate  of  the  University  of  Georgia  and  of  a  law 
school  and  a  most  devout  Christian  and  efficient  steward,  and 
J.  K.  Hines,  a  member  of  the  Legislature,  were  among  them. 
Our  great  Dr.  Young  J.  Allen  was  born  in  that  county,  at 
Bark  Camp.  His  father  died  just  a  little  while  before  he  was 
born,  and  his  mother  did  not  live  a  week  after  his  birth. 
When  about  a  year  old  he  was  brought  to  Meriwether  County, 
where  he  was  brought  up.  One  of  our  best  revivals  was  at 
Old  Church.  The  stewards  raised  the  money  for  Conference 
collections  and  all  others  and  requested  me  to  raise  five  hun- 
dred dollars  for  missions,  which  I  did.  On  shaking  hands 
with  Mose  Greene,  for  whom  Greene's  Cut  is  named,  he  placed 
a  fifty-dollar  bill  in  my  hand. 

Dr.  G.  G.  Smith  was  my  colleague.  He  was  then  about 
twenty  years  old.  As  soon  as  he  came  the  children  asked  me 
what  his  name  was.  They  said  they  would  call  him  "Brother 
George."  He  captured  the  family.  He  did  not  make  his 
home  with  us,  but  Rachel  told  him  to  bring  to  her  all  his 
clothing  that  needed  attention,  and  she  would  mend  them  for 
him.  He  called  her  Aunt  Rachel.  Few  older  men  were  as 
well  informed  as  he  was  then  on  the  history  of  the  Church. 
Both  of  his  grandfathers  were  leading  members  of  the  Con- 
ference. He  was  brought  up  at  Oxford,  the  home  of  Bishop 
Andrew  and  Bishop  Capers.  So  he  had  the  finest  opportuni- 
ties, and  he  improved  them.  We  were  lifelong  friends.  He 
has  left  in  his  books  kind  mention  of  both  my  wife  and  myself. 
He  says:  "Aunt  Rachel  was  a  queenly  woman." 

139 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


The  next  move,  for  1859-60,  was  to  Sandersville,  in  Wash- 
ington County,  one  of  the  old  counties  of  the  State.  It  con- 
tained many  good  people  and  some  not  so  good.  It  could  not 
be  said  that  many  of  the  old  and  best  leaders  of  the  Church 
remained  at  that  time.  The  good  board  of  faithful  stewards 
were  pretty  well  worn  out.  There  was  not  a  member  of  the 
Church  that  would  respond  when  called  upon  to  pray. 

We  had  a  comfortable  parsonage  and  were  well  received. 
The  circuit  extended  over  cjuite  a  wide  territory.  The  first 
year  was  a  fairly  good  one.  The  presiding  elder  and  the 
official  board  felt  that  they  needed  more  of  the  presence  of  a 
pastor,  and  it  was  made  a  station.  Dr.  A.  C.  C.  Thompson 
was  a  competent  and  successful  teacher  and  was  principal  of 
both  the  male  and  female  schools,  on  opposite  sides  of  the 
town.  Professor  Didier,  of  Maryland,  superintended  the 
male  school,  and  I  the  female  school  tO'  help  pay  my  salary. 
We  had  a  very  prosperous  year.  Yes,  I  had  some  noble  girls, 
and  they  became  valuable  women.  Everything  worked  har- 
moniously. 

Another  great  question  came  up  before  me.  The  old  church 
building  was  at  a  sharp  fork  of  the  roads,  and  every  rain 
washed  away  some  of  its  foundation,  so  that  it  was  hardly 
safe  to  worship  in.  As  our  old  official  board  was  almost  worn 
out,  Capt.  Seaborn  Jones,  not  a  member,  but  one  of  the  best 
men  I  have  ever  met  and  a  safe  adviser,  was  consulted  about 
building  a  new  church.  His  influence  was  great,  and  what  he 
said  went.  He  said:  "Yes,  we  ought  to  have  a  new  church." 
If  he  had  said  "No,"  it  would  have  been  a  setback.  He  sug- 
gested the  name  of  Thomas  Youngblood,  the  leading  mer- 
chant of  the  place,  and  lawyer  Beverly  Evans.  With  these 
three  men  the  enterprise  was  speedily  accomplished.     Where 

140 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


I  looked  for  maybe  twenty-five  dollars,  Youngblood  brought 
up  two  hundred  dollars.  I  was  sent  to  another  party  from 
whom  I  expected  twenty-five  dollars  and  got  one  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars.  Evans's  father-in-law,  a  wealthy  Primitive  Bap- 
tist, owned  several  negro  carpenters,  under  a  white  man  to  lead 
them.  He  took  the  contract  to  build  the  church.  A  new 
site  was  selected,  and  the  building  went  up  rapidly.  The  work 
was  faithfully  done,  and  soon  it  was  ready  for  dedication. 
Rev.  James  B.  Payne  started  from  that  very  point  when  he 
was  converted  and  became  a  leading  member  of  the  old  Geor- 
gia Conference.  He  came  and  dedicated  the  church  for  us. 
Before  the  dedicatory  prayer  was  offered  I  went  down  the 
aisle;  and  a  wealthy  bachelor  whispered  to  me  not  to  ask  for 
any  more  money,  that  he  would  foot  every  bill.  Before  reach- 
ing the  pulpit  a  member  told  me  that  he  would  give  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars.  A  beautiful  chandelier  had  been  pre- 
sented by  one  who  was  not  a  member  of  our  Church.  We 
had  already  purchased  a  fine-toned  bell  that  could  be  heard 
five  miles.  It  was  an  undertaking  most  dreaded  and  the  easi- 
est accomplished.  The  next  thing  was  tO'  buy  an  extra  street 
to  reach  the  church.  A  gracious  revival  followed  the  dedica- 
tion service.  After  it  closed  we  started  a  young  men's  prayer 
meeting.  It  was  not  large,  and  they  were  very  timid.  One  of 
them  who  was  to  pray  had  his  prayer  written.  When  he  took 
the  paper  from  his  pocket,  it  was  heard  all  over  the  church. 
Of  course  they  were  carefully  charged  not  to  criticize  each 
other  in  any  way.  They  afterwards  became  strong  officials 
of  the  Church. 

Here  let  me  add:  A  few  weeks  before  I  had  preached  the 
funeral  of  a  lady  whom  the  doctor  had  told  me  two  days  be- 
fore must  die.     Her  children  and  mine  were  in  school  togeth- 

141 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


er,  and  I  felt  the  deepest  sympathy.  The  stores  were  closed, 
and  the  church  was  crowded.  In  what  I  had  to  say,  if  there 
were  three  words  to  convey  the  meaning,  the  weakest  came; 
so  I  went  through  the  service  deeply  embarrassed.  Starting 
with  a  revival  afterwards,  one  of  the  most  moral  men  came  to 
the  altar  as  a  penitent  and  continued  to  come  for  several  days. 
In  the  evening,  after  the  business  hours,  I  called  to  see  him 
and  asked  him  about  the  starting  point.  I  wanted  to  see  "the 
snag  where  he  was  hitched."  He  said:  "The  day  you  preached 
Mrs.  Northington's  funeral  it  seemed  as  if  every  word  you 
said  pierced  my  heart."  He  was  converted,  lived  a  most  ex- 
emplary life  for  three  years,  then  went  to  his  reward.  So  let 
us  not  be  too  much  elated  with  good  sermons  nor  too  much 
cast  down  over  poor  ones. 

That  we  built  the  church  then  was  a  great  good.  The  old 
church  could  not  have  lasted  much  longer,  and  the  people  were 
soon  stripped  of  their  property  by  the  war;  so  the  new  church 
would  not  have  been  built.  I  have  not  been  there  since,  but 
I  have  learned  that  they  have  a  good  brick  church  and  one  of 
the  finest  schools  in  the  State. 

The  Washington  Rifles,  commanded  by  Captain  Jones,  were 
in  the  First  Georgia  Regiment  and  served  and  suffered  a  full 
share  throughout  the  war, 

Sandersville  is  about  twenty-eight  miles  from  Milledgeville, 
and  occasional  visits  were  made  to  the  old  capital.  When 
Gov.  Joseph  E.  Brown  was  elected  and  came  to  the  capital,  he 
brought  a  number  of  Canton  people  with  him.  Gen.  Eli  Mc- 
Cornell  was  the  principal  keeper  of  the  penitentiary,  and  other 
places  were  supplied  by  people  from  Canton.  With  the  rest 
was  a  couple  whom  I  had  married  while  there.  The  Governor 
and  his  wife  were  our  neighbors  and  friends.     They  called 

142 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


to  see  me  and  on  leaving  invited  me  to  stay  with  them  the 
next  night  I  spent  in  Milledgeville,  and  I  did  so.  We  talked 
about  Canton  and  Canton  friends.  We  had  family  prayer, 
and  Mrs.  Brown  and  the  children  retired  to  their  rooms.  The 
Governor  and  I  remained  at  the  table  in  the  dining  room.  He 
told  me  of  his  inaugural  address  and  how  he  felt  in  delivering 
it.  Then  he  told  me  of  his  conflict  with  the  political  party. 
It  was  the  custom  of  those  leaders  to  have  their  slate  prepared 
and  let  the  Governor  make  the  appointments.  These  appoint- 
ments were  not  always  best  for  the  people  at  large,  but  were 
made  to  keep  the  party  together.  More  of  them  were  made 
by  the  Governor  then  than  now.  He  appointed  the  superin- 
tendent of  the  Western  and  Atlantic  Railroad,  the  treasurer, 
and  other  important  officers.  The  slate  did  not  suit  the  Gov- 
ernor.    Mr.  was  the  party's  man  for  superintendent  of 

the  road.  The  Governor  had  not  made  the  appointments,  and 
the  party  was  uneasy  about  it.  Alexander  H.  Stephens  was 
then  leader  of  the  party.  He  spent  the  night  with  the  Gov- 
ernor and  stated  that  they  had  left  no  stone  unturned  to  se- 
cure his  election.  They  mentioned  the  names  slated  for  the 
appointments.  The  Governor  then  told  them  he  appreciated 
what  they  had  done  for  him,  but  he  must  regard  the  obliga- 
tions upon  him  for  the  good  of  the  State. 

The  State  road  was  then  in  the  worst  of  management.  It 
was  a  frolicking  crew  from  one  end  to  the  other.  Corn  had 
been  bought  at  Chattanooga,  and  the  people  were  suffering 
for  transportation.  Brown  knew  it;  and  he  appointed  Dr.  J. 
W.  Lewis,  perhaps  the  best  man  in  the  State,  to  take  control 
of  it.  In  a  short  time  Dr.  Lewis  had  the  road  in  fine  condi- 
tion. He  then  said  to  me:  "I  intended  to  have  a  safe  man 
made  treasurer."    That  was  George  Kellog,  of  Forsyth  Coun- 

143 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


ty,  who  possessed  every  essential  qualification  for  the  office. 
Other  appointments  were  as  judiciously  made. 

The  banking  system  was  then  very  bad.  The  law  allowed 
three  paper  dollars  to  be  issued  for  every  silver  dollar,  and 
some  of  the  banks  issued  six  for  one.  The  result  was  that 
there  were  many  failures.  The  planter  sold  his  cotton  for 
ten  cents.  The  bank  failed,  and  he  lost  his  money.  The  ablest 
lawyers  were  employed  against  the  Governor.  The  clerks  in 
the  bank  criticized  his  bookkeeping  and  made  it  a  public  joke. 
But  the  confidence  the  people  reposed  in  him  was  strengthened 
every  day.  He  pointed  his  finger  to  the  room  above  and  said: 
"I  prepared  that  veto  between  eleven  and  one  o'clock  at  night." 
Like  every  other  trying  experience,  he  had  more  confidence  in 
himself  than  he  had  ever  had  before.  Our  conference  was 
closed  at  a  late  hour.  I  had  to  leave  at  an  early  hour,  and 
Mrs.  Brown  was  up  to  see  that  I  had  an  early  start.  The 
crowning  grace  of  hospitality  is,  "Speed  your  guest." 

Mr.  Brown  was  elected  Governor  four  times  and  was 
known  as  the  "War  Governor."  In  the  days  of  Reconstruc- 
tion he  was  accused  by  some  of  having  been  bought  by  the 
enemy.  The  last  conversation  we  had  on  this  subject  was 
about  like  this:  "I  feel  that  if  we  don't  accept  the  best  terms 
we  can  get  we  will  be  like  the  little  boy  whipped  by  the  big 
one,  spitting  in  his  face  and  saying,  T  ask  you  no  odds.'  " 
Governor  Brown  was  the  safest  guide  in  the  most  dangerous 
times.  He  regained  the  full  confidence  of  the  people  and  was 
Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  and  then  United  States  Senator 
as  long  as  he  lived.  For  one,  I  think  there  ought  to  be  a 
county  named  Joe  Brown  County. 

144 


CHAPTER  IV 

CuLLODEN,  Greensboro,  and  Forsyth,  1861-65 

TN  1 86 1  Culloden  was  my  charge.  It  is  in  the  southwest 
corner  of  Monroe  County,  and  its  history  has  been  writ- 
ten more  than  that  of  any  other  town  in  the  State,  for  it  was 
the  first  to  establish  schools  of  high  grade.  It  has  sent  forth  a 
greater  number  of  distinguished  men  than  any  other  town  of 
its  size.  Members  of  Congress,  Representatives  and  Senators, 
a  Governor,  and  quite  a  number  of  preachers  have  gone  from 
there.  Dr.  Eustace  Speer,  Dr.  W.  F.  Cook,  and  Bishop  Mc- 
Tyeire  may  be  mentioned,  the  Bishop  having  been  prepared 
there  by  Dr.  J.  R.  Thomas  to  enter  Randolph-Macon  College. 
According  to  its  size,  Culloden  was  one  of  the  wealthiest  towns 
in  the  State.  It  was  a  fairly  good  circuit  in  every  respect. 
While  there  my  home  was  made  with  Rev.  W.  F.  Cook,  a 
local  preacher.  He  and  his  wife  were  two  of  the  best  of 
people.  She  was  a  sister  of  Dr.  Ellison,  the  second  President 
of  Wesleyan  Female  College.  It  was  a  year  of  many  ups  and 
downs  with  me.  There  I  read  Lincoln's  inaugural  address 
and  could  smell  the  smoke  of  war  in  it,  for  it  was  war  all  over. 
My  oldest  son  was  prepared  to  enter  Emory  College,  and  I 
had  bought  a  home  and  moved  to  Oxford.  I  was  away  from 
home  about  a  month  at  a  time.  In  Henry  County,  in  front 
of  the  home  of  Robert  Grier,  the  author  of  Grier's  Almanac, 
my  horse  died  of  blind  staggers.  I  was  only  about  one-fourth 
of  the  way  from  Cbcford  to  Culloden,  but  I  managed  to  get 
a  conveyance  and  filled  my  appointments.  I  bought  another 
horse ;  but  he  did  not  suit,  and  the  man  took  him  back.  About 
three  weeks  later  the  horse  died.  With  all  the  bad  we  had 
10  145 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


some  good.  Dr.  J.  E.  Evans  was  my  presiding  elder,  and  he 
was  a  most  companionable  man.  He  was  a  gifted  man  in  all 
respects — a  good  preacher,  a  good  pastor,  and  a  good  singer. 
We  had  a  good  meeting  at  Russellville  Camp  Ground  and 
built  a  new  church.  I  dedicated  it.  Dr.  Evans,  with  his 
white  cravat,  straight-breasted  coat,  at  a  camp  meeting  altar 
clapping  his  hands  and  singing  as  loud  as  he  could,  "I  am 
bound  for  the  promised  land,"  is  a  picture  of  old  Methodism. 

This  is  to  be  recorded  as  one  year  that  my  wife  and  I  were 
separated.  At  the  close  of  1861  the  war  was  getting  to  be  at 
its  worst.  Rachel  had  done  her  part  well,  as  she  always  did. 
Old  Brother  Mixon  sowed  her  turnip  seed  for  her.  The  col- 
lege was  closed.  It  is  putting  it  very  mildly  to  say  that  Oxford 
was  one  of  the  most  religious  and  intellectual  communities  I 
have  ever  spent  a  year  in.  Dr.  J.  R.  Thomas  was  president  of 
the  college.  We  had  lived  in  the  same  town  together  before. 
When  the  college  closed,  I  sold  my  house  and  lot  for  Confed- 
erate money  and  lost  it  all. 

Troubles  came  in  troops  and  at  the  worst  times.  At  no 
period  of  our  family's  history  could  the  war  have  come  to  us 
at  a  worse  time.  With  a  large  family  to  feed  and  clothe,  this 
absolute  necessity  had  to  be  met,  and  for  meeting  it  the  condi- 
tions were  growing  worse  every  day.  When  the  first  volun- 
teers went  out,  there  was  plenty  of  clothing  and  everything  to 
fit  them  for  the  field.  Then  came  the  blockading  of  our  ports; 
and,  as  before,  we  could  get  nothing  from  the  North.  Call 
after  call  came  for  more  volunteers,  and  this  took  material 
for  feeding  them.  Finally  came  the  conscript  law.  This  took 
every  able-bodied  man  to  the  war,  and  nearly  every  family 
sent  a  son  or  husband.  To  clothe  and  provide  for  this  great 
number  the  country  was  stripped  bare.     The  clothing  of  the 

146 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


people  at  home  was  almost  worn  out.  We  had  to  resort  to 
the  ways  our  grandmothers  made  cloth.  Those  useful  arti- 
cles were  the  cotton  and  wool  cards,  spinning  wheels,  and 
looms.  With  these  we  had  to  manufacture  or  make  cloth. 
This  story  need  not  be  told  again,  but  all  these  articles  were 
in  evidence  in  our  home.  For  me  the  material  had  been  pre- 
pared, and  a  lady  in  the  country  wove  the  jeans,  which  was 
dyed  with  walnut.  I  had  a  good  suit  that  lasted  till  the  war 
ended.  Always  provident  and  persevering,  Rachel,  through  a 
friend,  had  gotten  a  bolt  or  two  of  white  cloth  at  the  factory 
at  Macon  and  also  several  bunches  of  factory  thread.  She 
knew  nothing  about  weaving,  but  said  she  would  try  to  do 
what  others  had  done.  She  struck  the  first  lick  too  hard, 
making  the  first  yard  as  hard  as  a  board.  Under  similar  cir- 
cumstances I  never  sympathized  with  her  more  tO'  see  her 
brave  spirit  so  severely  tried.  I  think  she  finally  got  the  right 
lick  and  wove  the  web  through.  Other  help  in  the  weaving 
came,  and  an  ample  supply  of  cloth  was  provided. 

A  friendly  eye  had  been  watching  her  all  the  time.  Mrs. 
Samuel  Davis,  possessed  of  ample  means,  had  a  fine  seam- 
stress, a  negro.  She  said  to  Rachel  that  she  had  been  watch- 
ing her  and  wanted  to  help  her.  She  said  the  time  had  come. 
She  told  her  that  her  seamstress  was  in  every  way  a  capable 
and  reliable  woman  and  that  she  would  send  her  to  help  her 
make  every  garment,  if  it  took  her  a  month.  So  Sally  came 
and  said:  "Mrs.  Cotter,  Mistress  told  me  to  come  here  with 
my  tape  measure,  thimble,  and  scissors  and  to  stay  till  ev- 
ery garment  for  the  boys  and  girls  is  cut  out  and  made  and 
every  button  and  buttonhole  is  done.  She  said  for  you  not  to 
sew  a  stitch."  So  Sally  went  to  work  and  pleased  in  every 
garment.    Rachel  did  not  forget  the  weapon  that  won  her  first 

147 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


victory.  She  overhauled  all  the  old  clothing,  turning  some  of 
the  skirts  upside  down  and  mending  others,  congratulating 
herself  that  she  was  better  off  than  she  thought  she  was.  All 
the  children  had  two  good  suits  around.  She  said:  "Before 
me  this  was  a  big  hill  to  climb ;  but  when  I  came  to  it,  it  was 
as  smooth  and  level  as  the  house  floor.  We  speak  of  angels 
in  heaven;  but  there  must  be  some  in  this  world,  and  Sister 
Davis  must  be  one  of  them.  Nobody  could  have  done  her 
part  better  than  Sally." 

While  this  was  still  going  on,  with  me  it  was  "root,  hog, 
or  die,"  and  I  raised  some.  My  good  neighbor  Johnson  said: 
"Your  hogs  are  ready,  as  mine  are,  and  I  will  slaughter  them 
all  to-day."  It  turned  out  that  I  had  thirteen  hundred  pounds 
of  good  pork.  We  had  plenty  of  bread,  and  once  more  we 
had  something  to  eat  and  to  wear. 

Greene  County  had  a  noble  citizenship  of  men  and  women, 
and  Greensboro  was  noted  for  its  good  women.  Mrs.  Cun- 
ningham, of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  was  the  starter  of  the 
Presbyterian  college  there.  Mrs.  Weaver,  sister  of  the  late 
W.  M.  Weaver,  was  in  many  respects  a  very  superior  char- 
acter. She  was  a  consecrated  Methodist.  Sufficient  mention 
has  been  made  of  Mrs.  Davis,  of  the  Baptist  Church.  There 
was  no  precious  ointment  to  give,  no  service  to  render  to  our 
Lord  that  these  godly  women  would  not  have  delighted  to  do. 
Our  Master  said  that  there  should  be  a  memorial  of  Mary's 
devotion  to  him,  and  here  I  make  a  grateful  memorial  of  these 
good  women  who  have  long  since  gone  to  their  reward. 

This  was  in  1862  and  1863.  The  time  limit  had  come  for 
us  to  move  again;  and  the  good  people  sent  us  away  with  a 
barrel  of  sirup,  flour,  and  other  provisions,  enough  to  last  us 
a  quarter  of  the  year.     We  chartered  two  freight  cars  to 

148 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


move  in,  one  for  the  family  and  provisions  and  one  for  the 
cows.  Does  any  one  ask  why  we  took  the  cows?  If  you  had 
seen  the  droves  of  cows  driven  through  the  country  to  feed 
the  men  and  had  heard  the  soldiers  tell  of  what  poor  beef  they 
had  to  eat,  you  would  have  thought  there  wasn't  a  cow  left  in 
the  country.    So  we  held  on  to  ours. 

On  our  way  to  Forsyth  we  went  through  Atlanta,  where 
we  were  sidetracked  for  the  night,  and  the  next  morning  we 
went  down  to  Forsyth.  We  jumped  out  of  the  frying  pan 
into  the  fire.  The  enemy  had  beaten  us  back  till  our  sick  and 
wounded  had  to  be  moved  and  crowded  into  every  place. 
Forsyth  made  room  for  about  three  thousand  sick  and  wound- 
ed at  one  time.  In  all  we  cared  for  about  twenty  thousand. 
As  soon  as  we  got  intO'  the  parsonage  everything  had  to  be 
regulated  to  render  service  to  the  sick  and  wounded.  We  got 
up  soon  and  had  our  breakfast  early  and  then  prepared  some- 
thing better  for  the  sick.  At  once  Rachel  took  her  place  at 
the  forefront  and  did  a  noble  part.  She  soon  found  out  those 
who  deserved  the  most  attention.  With  others  she  came  to  a 
young  man  who'  looked  liked  her  own  boy,  who  was  a  young 
lieutenant  and  was  at  one  time  detailed  to  carry  nearly  two 
hundred  Federal  officers  who  were  taken  prisoners  at  Chicka- 
mauga.  He  delivered  them  to  the  Confederate  authorities  at 
Richmond.  He  was  about  the  last  man  to  cross  the  pontoons 
at  Savannah  and  about  the  last  to  fire  the  Confederate  guns 
at  Bentonville.  Rachel  said  she  often  thought  that  her  boy 
might  be  wounded  like  the  young  man  she  was  attending  and 
that  it  might  be  a  joy  to  his  mother  to  know  what  attention 
she  was  giving  him.  She  was  saving  to  a  penny  and  benevo- 
lent to  the  limit  of  her  ability.  She  gave  the  last  bed  blanket, 
saying  that  the  poor  sick  soldiers  needed  it  more  than  we  did. 

149 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


No  women  ever  acted  a  nobler  part  than  did  the  women  of  the 
Confederacy,  and  the  women  of  Forsyth  were  equal  to  the 
best. 

A  little  incident:  A  Mississippi  brigade  had  failed  to  sur- 
render in  North  Carolina,  and  when  they  came  to  Macon  they 
notified  General  Wilson  that  they  wanted  to  surrender.  He 
sent  General  Croxton  tO'  meet  the  Confederate  general.  A 
lieutenant  colonel  represented  the  brigade.  Croxton  was 
mounted  upon  a  fine  horse  and  wore  a  new  uniform.  The 
Confederate  officer's  clothes  were  very  much  soiled,  but  he 
had  a  bright  eye  and  a  brave  heart.  Only  a  few  words  passed 
between  them.  General  Croxton  said  that  he  would  not  take 
their  wagons  and  teams  away  from  them  and  that  they  might 
carry  their  baggage  home  in  them.  What  about  the  horses? 
Every  man  owned  his  horse  when  he  went  into  the  army, 
but  the  horses  had  been  turned  over  to  the  government.  Crox- 
ton said  that  the  government  was  defunct  and  that  the  men 
could  never  be  paid  for  their  horses,  but  he  said:  "I  will  give 
you  protection,  so  that  every  man  may  keep  his  own  horse  till 
he  reaches  home,  then  turn  over  the  horses  and  wagons  tO'  the 
nearest  Federal  post.  I  ask  no  promise  from  you.  I  take  the 
word  of  a  soldier  anywhere."  The  time  occupied  in  this 
transaction  did  not  exceed  fifteen  minutes.  The  Federal  offi- 
cer galloped  away,  and  every  Confederate  soldier  felt  kindly 
toward  him. 

The  next  year  we  were  at  Fort  Valley.  A  friend  of  mine 
had  one  or  two  hundred  bales  of  cotton,  about  which  he  was 
having  a  great  deal  of  trouble.  He  told  me  that  he  had  em- 
ployed Gen.  Howell  Cobb  and  other  prominent  lawyers  to 
represent  him  at  Washington.  I  told  him  that  General  Crox- 
ton had  opened  a  law  office  in  Macon  and  that  he  might  be  able 

150 


MY    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


to  render  him  service  that  a  Southern  man  might  not  be  able 
to  do.  I  think  he  was  employed  in  the  case.  Cotton  was  fifty 
cents  a  pound  then,  and  a  lawyer's  fee  in  such  a  case  was  a 
pretty  large  one.     I  do  not  know  what  the  result  was. 

•  In  Smith's  "History  of  Georgia  Methodism,"  pages  262, 
263,  we  read  the  following: 

The  Conference  met  in  Eatonton  January  18,  1845.  There  were 
twenty-one  received  on  trial.  They  were :  John  S.  Dunn,  Albert  G.  Banks, 
John  B.  C  Quillian,  John  C.  Ley,  Osborne  L.  Smith,  Robert  M.  Carter, 
James  M.  N.  Lowe,  William  A.  Smyth,  Reuben  H.  Griffin,  John  H.  Cald- 
well, George  H.  Hancock,  John  M.  Marshall,  Nathaniel  N.  Allen,  James 
Quillian,  Freeman  T.  Reynolds,  George  W.  Pratt,  H.  H.  McQueen,  Jacob 
Hogue,  Gideon  Y.  Thomason,  George  C.  Clarke,  and  William  J.  Cotter. 

William  J.  Cotter  was  a  mountain  boy,  whose  family  lived  among  the 
Indians  in  Murray  County.  He  was  converted  while  that  county  was  in 
the  Holston  Conference.  He  had  a  better  education  than  many  of  his 
associates  and  taught  school.  He  entered  the  Conference  and  has  been 
for  seventy-four  years  a  most  valuable  member  of  it.  He  was  a  professor 
in  LaGrange  Female  College.  He  is  still  living  (1912),  a  Master  of  Arts 
by  compHment  of  Emory  College,  a  wise  counselor,  and  a  devout  and  sin- 
cere Christian  gentleman. 

In  the  memoir  of  Dr.  G.  G.  Smith,  written  by  George  W. 
Yarbrough,  in  the  Minutes  of  the  North  Georgia  Conference 
(1913),  we  find  the  following: 

Brother  Smith's  first  appointment  was  junior  preacher  in  the  Waynes- 
boro Circuit,  with  W.  J.  Cotter  preacher  in  charge.  His  love  for  his 
senior  was  deep  and  warm  and  lasted  as  long  as  he  lived,  he  having  dealt 
with  him  as  a  real  father  in  the  gospel,  and  remembering  his  wife,  too,  a 
"warm-hearted,  handsome,  stirring,  and  devout  young  woman,  who  took 
the  younger  preacher  to  her  heart  as  if  he  had  been  a  child." 


CHAPTER  V 

The  Battle  of  Chickamauga 

''  I  "^HIS  was  one  of  the  great  battles  of  the  War  between  the 
States.  The  Federal  army  lost  fifteen  thousand  men  and 
the  Confederate  army  eighteen  thousand,  in  all  thirty-four 
thousand  men  killed,  wounded,  and  taken  prisoners.  The  fatal 
field  extended  over  several  miles  in,  maneuvering  and  getting 
ready  for  the  conflict.    The  main  part  of  the  ground  was  level. 

The  battle  came  suddenly  and  with  great  surprise  to  the 
people  living  there.  Women  at  their  looms  cut  off  the  woven 
part  of  the  web  and  left  the  warp  on  the  beam.  Geese  and 
chickens  were  shot  down  in  the  yards.  The  armies  com- 
menced getting  ready  for  the  battle  on  Friday  afternoon,  the 
cavalries  tearing  down  all  the  rail  fences.  Up  tO'  Saturday 
night  the  Federals  were  throwing  up  breastworks.  After 
emptying  ax  boxes,  they  used  them,  with  rocks,  cutting  down 
trees,  felling  them  at  full  length.  At  one  place,  coming 
up  from  different  points,  the  fortification  was  in  the  shape  of 
a  V.  The  Federals  had  to  come  to  the  sharp  point  of  the  V. 
The  Confederates  had  to  come  to  the  crest  of  a  little  hill  and 
then  move  thirty  yards,  exposed  to  the  enemy's  fire.  Their 
loss  was  fearful,  and  the  ground  was  covered  with  blood  and 
brains;  but  they  drove  the  enemy  from  their  breastworks. 
With  an  enfilading  fire  the  Federals  dropped  their  guns  and 
ran  for  their  lives.  One  could  have  walked  three  hundred 
yards  upon  dead  Union  soldiers. 

The  shooting  on  that  ground  was  most  fatal.  Seven  out  of 
ten  balls  ranged  from  four  to  five  feet  above  the  ground. 
There  was  but  little  wild  shooting  up  to  ten  and  fifteen  feet 

152 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


above  the  ground.  The  men  who  did  the  shooting  were 
Southern  and  Western  men  accustomed  to  handling  guns. 
Many  a  good-sized  saphng  was  hit  on  both  sides  about  four 
or  five  feet  from  the  groimd,  as  if  it  were  being  cut  down  with 
an  ax.  So  there  were  more  men  killed  or  mortally  wounded 
in  this  battle  than  in  any  other.  A  huge  pile  of  muskets  was 
gathered  from  the  field.  I  could  not  tell  how  many  thousand 
of  them  there  were. 

Great  numbers  of  letters  were  scattered  over  the  field  from 
friends  at  a  distance.    One  was  from  a  sister: 

My  Dear  Brother:  At  church  last  Sunday  there  was  not  a  young  man. 
Our  wheat  crop  is  good ;  but  father  is  not  able  to  gather  it,  and  we  can- 
not get  laborers.    My  earnest  prayer  is  that  the  Lord  may  spare  you. 

Another  was  from  a  mother: 

My  Dear  Son:  My  daily  prayer  is  that  the  Lord  may  shield  you  and  that 
this  terrible  war  may  soon  come  to  an  end. 

Other  affectionate  words  followed.  Some  were  from  wives 
to  their  husbands,  and  others  were  to  the  dear  soldier  boys 
from  sweethearts. 

The  Confederate  dead  were  buried  first  and  the  Federal 
dead  some  days  later,  but  they  turned  as  black  as  negroes  be- 
fore they  were  buried.  With  a  relief  corps,  I  was  on  the 
bloody  field  as  soon  as  anything  could  be  done.  We  visited 
every  field  hospital.  The  battle  was  fought  on  September  19 
and  20,  1863.  I  was  there  till  the  first  of  October.  We  had 
then  used  all  the  supplies  we  had  on  the  battle  field  and  walked 
eight  miles  to  Ringgold,  where  the  supplies  were.  We  had 
already  made  away  with  our  eight-gallon  keg  of  brandy.  Of 
course  I  had  not  touched  a  drop.  They  then  urged  that  it 
was  my  duty  to  drink  it  for  my  health's  sake.  Tom  Foster 
said  to  me:  "Wouldn't  you  like  a  cup  of  coffee?"     I  said: 

153 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


"Yes,  Tom,  the  best  in  the  world."  He  soon  had  it  ready; 
and,  with  the  ham  and  other  things,  I  soon  had  a  hearty 
breakfast.  When  report  about  the  fatal  shooting  was  made 
to  the  surgeons,  they  said  that  they  had  noticed  it  in  their 
final  report.  There  were  eight  of  us,  and  we  returned  to 
Greensboro.  I  was  the  only  one  spared  from  an  attack  of  sick- 
ness. I  jumped  in  my  buggy  and  went  to  my  appointment. 
Our  marshal,  who  was  at  the  head  of  our  committee,  was 
stricken  ill  and  died. 

The  battle  ground  is  now  a  beautiful  park.  The  Confeder- 
ate Monument  is  an  honor  to  the  State,  and  all  our  citizens 
should  see  it  if  an  opportunity  offers.  There  are  hundreds  of 
smaller  monuments  on  the  fields  marking  where  the  battles 
were  fought  each  day  and  at  what  hour. 

154 


CHAPTER  VI 

Fort  Valley,  Whitesville,  and  Grantville,  1866-69 

"pORT  VALLEY  was  my  field  in  1866.  The  storm  cloud  of 
war  was  past.  They  had  had  none  of  the  war  there. 
They  had  suffered  from  the  effects  of  the  war,  but  there  had 
been  no  battle  near  there.  The  country  about  Fort  Valley  is 
rich  and  beautiful  and  is  inhabited  by  the  finest  type  of  in- 
telligent and  good  people.  My  first  work  was  to  look  over 
the  record  of  the  Church,  and  there  were  quite  a  number  of 
local  preachers  and  leading  members  to  help  consider  it. 
When  the  name  of  one  who  had  fallen  in  the  war  was  called, 
the  entry  was  made,  "Killed  in  battle,"  or,  "Died  in  a  hos- 
pital," and  all  felt  sad.  There  was  a  large  attendance  at  the 
meeting.  Some  had  lost  interest  in  the  Church,  and  the  ques- 
tion was,  Who  was  the  best  one  to  bring  them  back?  Not 
one  refused  to  do  his  part.  The  interest  of  the  Sunday  school 
came  up  before  us,  and  it  was  revived  and  prospered.  The 
year  was  a  prosperous  one  with  the  Church.  There  was  con- 
siderable sickness  in  that  section  of  the  country,  and  I  was 
one  of  the  sufferers. 

A  new  question  came  before  us.  There  was  the  greatest 
harmony  existing  between  the  former  masters  and  slaves. 
The  present  conditions  were  new  tO'  both  parties.  The  ne- 
groes went  to  their  old  masters  for  counsel  in  everything. 
Some  came  tO'  me  and  said:  "What  shall  we  do?  We  were 
converted  in  the  Southern  Methodist  Church.  We  love  our 
old  pastors  as  well  as  we  love  our  white  brethren."  We  told 
them  we  didn't  know  what  was  best,  but  that  we  could  not 
drive  them  from  our  Church,  that  it  was  their  home.  Bishop 
Turner,  of  the  African  Methodist  Church,  was  a  presiding 

155 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


elder  then,  and  he  sent  a  man  there  with  a  letter  tO'  the  pastor. 
We  did  not  know  what  to  do.  Bishop  Turner  and  his  Church 
were  in  no  way  friendly  to  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
South.  The  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  was  doing  all  it 
could  to  get  the  negroes  with  them  and  against  us.  The  ne- 
groes that  had  decided  to  stay  with  us  had  bought  a  building 
adapted  for  Church  and  school  purposes,  paying  for  it  in  in- 
stallments. Their  former  owners  helped  them  every  time  the 
payment  fell  due.  Here  are  some  of  the  names  of  these  faith- 
ful men:  Caesar  Taylor,  a  local  preacher,  who  had  been  or- 
dained a  deacon  in  our  Church  that  year;  Paul  Bamett,  a 
preacher  and  a  man  of  fine  common  sense,  with  at  least  two 
kinds  of  blood  in  his  veins,  negro  and  Indian;  Isaac  Anderson, 
also  a  preacher,  who  always  went  to  his  former  master  for  ad- 
vice; and  Jim  Staley,  his  master's  foreman  before  the  war  and 
who  continued  so  after  the  war. 

We  instituted  a  literary  and  theological  institute  for  the 
negroes.  These  brethren  came  to  my  home  two  or  three  times 
a  week  at  night,  and  we  started  in  the  spelling  book.  Some 
could  read  a  little.  A  text  would  be  given  them  ( for  instance, 
"Christ  died  for  all"),  and  the  next  day  they  came  with  the 
scripture  to  prove  what  they  preached.  All  moved  on  the 
entire  year;  and  when  the  Colored  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  was  organized,  in  1870,  Georgia  sent  five  delegates, 
and  two  of  these,  if  not  three,  were  from  Fort  Valley.  One 
of  her  delegates  was  made  a  bishop.  It  was  Bishop  Holsey. 
When  the  war  ended,  we  had  two  hundred  thousand  negroes 
in  our  Church.  There  is  no  extravagance  in  saying  that  it 
was  one  of  the  best  Churches  I  ever  served.  Among  them  I 
might  mention  Dr.  Hollinshead,  Dr.  Mathis,  and  Dr.  Green, 
all  preachers. 

156' 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


Marshallville,  six  or  eight  miles  from  Fort  Valley,  was  one 
of  my  appointments.  The  people  were  equal  to  the  best  in 
Fort  Valley.  Donald  Frederick  was  superintendent  of  the 
Sunday  school  for  I  can't  tell  how  long,  and  it  was  one  of 
the  best  in  every  respect.  Our  Conference  was  held  that  year 
at  Americus,  and  we  were  divided  into  the  North  Georgia  and 
the  South  Georgia  Conferences.  It  was  Bishop  McTyeire's 
first  Conference  in  Georgia.  This  notable  incident  occurred: 
We  met  at  the  home  of  Brother  Jewett,  the  pastor,  and  Dr. 
J.  R.  Thomas  said:  "I  parted  with  Holland  [McTyeire]  on 
the  campus  of  Randolph-Macon  College,  in  Virginia.  I  had 
not  seen  him  since  till  he  presided  to-day."  When  the  appoint- 
ments were  read  out,  my  name  was  called  for  the  North  Geor- 
gia Conference,  which  I  preferred. 

My  next  appointment  was  at  Whitesville,  in  Harris  County, 
which  is  divided  by  Pine  Mountain.  I  was  on  the  north  side 
of  the  mountain,  a  fertile  section  of  land.  There  were  a 
number  of  the  best  citizens  of  the  State  located  here,  and  they 
were  generally  well  off.  Methodism  was  well  established. 
The  Rev.  James  Cotton,  a  local  preacher  and  a  man  of  great 
ability,  had  done  much  in  establishing  a  Church  there.  Rev. 
John  Little  and  Rev.  Jackson  Ruch,  well-beloved  local  preach- 
ers, added  much  to  the  building  up  of  the  Church. 

Whitesville  had  at  one  time  two  very  prosperous  schools, 
but  the  war  had  broken  them  up  and  had  reduced  the  place  to 
a  mere  village.  My  first  year  there  was  a  very  hard  one. 
Cotton  went  down  to  nine  cents  a  pound,  com  went  up  to  one 
dollar  and  sixty  cents  a  bushel,  and  meat  was  high  in  propor- 
tion. The  people,  as  well  as  the  preachers,  had  to  struggle 
for  a  living.  In  many  respects  the  year  was  a  very  good  one. 
Our  Sunday  school  started  with  less  than  a  dozen  pupils  and 

157 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


increased  to  about  seventy.  I  have  never  seen  a  school  where 
teachers  and  pupils  worked  harder  for  the  good  of  it.  Nearly 
every  one  of  the  pupils  was  converted  that  year.  Rev.  Jimmy 
Callahan  was  the  superintendent.  He  was  the  father  of  our 
great  missionary,  W.  J.  Callahan,  of  Korea,  who  was  a  baby 
then.    Father  and  son  are  two  of  the  most  consecrated  men. 

John  Pattillo  and  his  wife  were  two-  of  the  most  liberal  sup- 
porters of  the  Church.  They  brought  up  a  family  of  twelve 
children,  six  sons  and  six  daughters.  Of  the  sons,  John  and 
William  were  graduated  from  Emory  College.  John  joined 
the  Texas  Conference.  His  father  always  wanted  a  report  of 
the  fourth  Quarterly  Conference;  and  when  it  came,  a  check 
was  sent  to  John  to  meet  the  deficit.  William  was  a  successful 
insurance  agent  in  Atlanta  for  many  years  and  made  liberal 
contributions  to  his  Alma  Mater,  as  well  as  to  other  institu- 
tions of  the  Church.  All  the  other  members  filled  their  places 
well. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  year  at  Whitesville  the  people  said: 
"If  you  will  take  the  school,  we  will  not  require  so  much  pas- 
toral work,  but  will  do  as  much  for  you  another  year  and 
more,  if  we  can."  The  trustees  gave  me  the  school;  but,  like 
everything  else,  it  was  run  down,  and  nobody  was  to  blame. 
We  had  a  very  good  school.  We  left  at  the  end  of  the  year 
cherishing  the  best  memories  of  the  people  of  the  Whitesville 
charge. 

Lewis  J.  Davis  was  the  presiding  elder.  He  was  one  of  the 
best  preachers  in  the  Conference  and  one  of  the  best  presiding 
elders.  He  planned  for  the  best  for  his  preachers  and  for  the 
people.  He  placed  my  name  before  the  trustees  of  the  Grant- 
ville  High  School,  and  Grantville  was  my  charge  in  1869. 
Like  other  places,  it  had  suffered  from  the  effects  of  the  war, 

158 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


and  there  were  some  political  differences  in  the  community 
which  hurt  the  Church.  It  was  not  expected  that  the  Church 
would  support  the  pastor.  All  parties  rallied  to  the  school. 
They  had  had  good  teachers,  and  the  pupils  were  very  well 
advanced. 

Dr.  J.  W.  Lee,  whom  everybody  knows  now  as  one  of  the 
greatest  literary  men  in  the  Church,  who  is  called  upon  for 
commencement  sermons,  and  who  is  the  author  of  several  use- 
ful books,  offered  the  prayer  at  the  convention  when  Presi- 
dent Wilson  was  nominated  the  second  time.  Dr.  Lee  was  not 
far  from  twenty  when  I  was  in  Grantville;  and  I  had  never 
heard  of  him  before,  as  he  did  not  live  there.  He  came  to 
live  with  his  imcle  and  to  go  to  school.  He  was  there  the  first 
day  and  the  last  and  improved  every  hour.  His  example  was 
worth  a  great  deal  to  the  school.  He  was  not  the  only  good 
and  studious  pupil.  There  were  several  girls  fifteen  or  sixteen 
years  old  who  were  models  of  propriety  in  every  respect.  The 
patrons  all  stood  by  me,  and  the  pay  was  equally  good.  For 
Brother  Lee's  tuition  I  received  two  twenty-dollar  bills.  One 
patron  paid  one  hundred  dollars.  All  the  tuition,  from  one 
thousand  to  twelve  hundred  dollars,  was  collected. 

My  successor  was  S.  E.  Leigh,  a  fine  classical  teacher.  He 
went  through  Emory  College,  but  did  most  of  his  prepara- 
tor)^  work  at  Grantville.  I  did  not  know  then  that  he  would 
preach.  I  have  never  felt  authorized  to  ask  a  man  if  he  felt 
called  to  preach;  but  when  he  reports  the  call,  I  feel  a  tender 
interest  in  each  case,  and  I  especially  did  in  Brother  Leigh's. 
No  honor  has  come  to  him  that  it  has  not  brought  joy  and 
gladness  to  my  heart. 

While  sitting  here  and  dictating  what  is  being  printed,  on 

159 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


April  24,  19 1 7,  I  insert  a  letter  just  received  from  Brother 
J.  W.  Lee: 

St.  Louis,  Missouri,  April  22,  1917. 
My  Dear  Brother  Cotter:  I  thank  you  for  the  names  of  the  doctors 
you  have  been  good  enough  to  send  me.  I  am  glad  to  know  that  you  live 
on  earth  and  continue  to  do  good.  It  has  been  forty-six  years  since  I  met 
you  first,  in  1869,  when  I  went  to  Grantville  to  start  to  school  to  you. 
May  the  Lord  bless  you  and  keep  you  always ! 

Affectionately  and  always  your  friend,  James  W.  Lee. 

160 


CHAPTER  VII 

Troup  Circuit  and  LaGrange  College,  1870-73 

1%  TY  charge  in  1870,  1871,  and  1872  was  Troup  Circuit. 
The  first  year  was  a  successful  one.  We  had  revivals  in 
all  the  churches.  In  1871  we  had  a  very  fine  peach  crop,  the 
trees  literally  breaking  down  with  their  burden  of  fruit.  Dur- 
ing the  war  a  considerable  quantity  of  brandy  had  been  made. 
Many  of  the  people  had  lost  their  property,  and  the  temptation 
was  strong  to  make  brandy  for  the  money  there  was  in  it. 
Perhaps  one  hundred  of  my  members,  some  of  them  stewards, 
engaged  in  the  business.  I  had  never  had  anything  like  it  to 
contend  with  before.  To  meet  the  issue,  twO'  points  were  de- 
cided upon  and  strictly  maintained.  One  was  to  sustain  the 
rule  of  the  Church,  and  the  other  was  to  expel  no'  one  if  it  could 
be  avoided.  The  subject  was  not  distinctly  preached  about 
except  at  one  appointment,  where  sO'  many  were  involved  that 
a  committee  could  not  be  selected.  A  very  plain  sermon  was 
preached  at  that  point ;  and  it  was  reported  that  the  preacher 
was  angry,  which  was  a  great  mistake.  Nevertheless,  the  ob- 
ject was  accomplished,  no  one  was  expelled,  and  brandy- 
making  received  a  death  blow. 

In  1872  we  had  a  very  good  year,  and  at  its  close  the  pre- 
siding elder  said:  'T  think  you  are  in  better  shape  than  you 
were  at  the  end  of  last  year." 

LaGrange  Female  College  had  not  only  suffered  fiery 
trials,  but  one  of  the  buildings  had  had  a  severe  fire.  It  was 
not  reduced  to  ashes.  The  only  timbers  left  were  about  one- 
half  charcoal  and  the  other  half  smoked  wood.  After  the 
war,  until  that  time,  the  Baptist  and  Methodist  schools  had 
II  161 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


been  united.  It  was  decided  then  that  each  college  would  take 
its  place  again.  Rev.  Morgan  Callaway  was  elected  President. 
His  name  excited  the  highest  expectations.  He  was  the  prin- 
cipal of  a  fine  school  in  Washington,  Georgia,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  State;  but  he  brought  his  literary  and  musical  fac- 
ulty and  a  large  number  of  girls.  Their  coming  was  like  the 
sound  of  the  mellow  horn  of  spring  sounding  over  every  hill 
and  dale  and  calling  dead  and  dreary  winter  into  budding  and 
blooming  life.  On  the  day  of  their  arrival  they  came  in  a 
body.  Every  hack  in  the  city  had  been  engaged  and  was 
ready.  They  were  filled  with  girls,  and  the  drays  were  packed 
with  trunks.  As  they  moved  from  the  depot  through  the  pub- 
lic square  to  the  college  it  was  a  grand  demonstration — yes, 
an  ovation.  The  clerks,  as  well  as  the  customers,  in  the  stores 
came  to  the  doors  and  looked.  As  they  passed,  all  the  families 
in  the  homes  came  to  their  doors  and  looked.  It  was  a  grand 
occasion.  I  looked  on  and  saw  it.  At  once  the  school  started, 
and  it  was  a  full  one.  It  increased  in  popularity  all  that  year 
and  still  increased  the  next  year. 

But  there  came  a  sudden  eclipse  that  the  almanac  had  not 
foretold.  Emory  College,  always  taking  the  best,  took  our 
president  into  one  of  its  professorships.  Rev.  E.  P.  Burch  was 
President  of  LaGrange  College  in  1872.  My  charge  was  the 
Troup  Circuit.  I  lived  in  LaGrange.  I  was  asked  to  become 
secretary  and  treasurer  of  the  college,  which  did  not  interfere 
with  my  pastoral  work.  We  had  a  fairly  good  year  collecting 
money  and  paying  the  teachers.  Brother  Burch  gave  up  the 
presidency,  and  all  was  fiat  again.  Mr.  J.  J.  Johnson,  a  grad- 
uate of  Delaware  College,  an  experienced  teacher  and  in  every 
way  a  good  man,  was  urged  by  the  trustees  to  accept  the 
presidency.     He  made  one  sole  condition,  and  that  was  that  I 

162 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


should  be  associated  with  him  in  the  school.  When  asked, 
Bishop  Marvin  appointed  me  to  that  position.  The  boarding 
department  of  the  college  was  not  opened  that  year;  so  my 
rented  house,  with  a  goodly  number  of  rooms,  was  filled  with 
college  girls.  I  shuddered  to  think  of  the  burden  on  Rachel's 
shoulders,  but  I  knew  she  would  fill  every  demand.  It  was  a 
case  of  falling  desperately  in  love  at  first  sight.  Every  girl 
was  loud  in  her  praise  of  "Aunt  Rachel's"  table  and  nice  bed- 
rooms. Rachel  did  not  stint  herself  in  reciprocating  their 
words  of  praise.  Informally  they  were  in  a  mutual  admiration 
society.  Rachel  said  that  they  were  the  best  college  girls 
she  had  ever  seen.  They  gave  her  no  trouble,  but  helped 
her  in  every  way  possible.  When  they  visited  their  homes, 
they  told  their  mothers  good  things  about  Aunt  Rachel ;  and 
years  afterwards,  when  they  were  married  and  in  homes  of 
their  own,  they  sent  her  word  that  they  tried  tO'  prepare  things 
like  they  had  learned  from  her.  A  scrapbook  was  kept  of 
the  pleasant  days  of  the  Cotter  boarders.  We  had  a  good 
commencement,  with  a  class  of  five  girls  to  graduate,  having 
had  a  very  successful  year.  After  that  the  college  started  on 
a  career  of  success  which  continues  to  this  day,  and  to-day 
LaGrange  Female  College  is  one  of  the  best  in  the  State. 
Western  Georgia  and  Eastern  Alabama  ought  to  rally  to  its 
support.  It  well  deserves  the  richest  endowment  and  all  possi- 
ble encouragement.  LaGrange  is  a  fine  city  and  is  accessible 
from  every  quarter.  Rachel,  Brother  Johnson,  and  I  held 
the  post  till  the  danger  point  was  passed,  when  reenforce- 
ments  came  to  the  rescue. 

Rev.  Morgan  Callaway  assisted  me  as  junior  preacher  on 
the  circuit  in  1870.  We  became  close  friends.  He  was  born 
to  command,  to  be  obeyed,  and  to  be  loved.     With  the  least 

163 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


ado  he  achieved  the  greatest  results.  His  dress  was  neat,  but 
not  extravagant.  His  movement  was  with  the  step  of  a  miHta- 
ry  man.  The  first  impression  was  that  he  was  stiff  in  his  man- 
ner, but  he  excelled  in  his  pleasant  way  of  meeting  a  stranger. 
He  was  one  man  who  never  thought  more  highly  of  himself 
than  he  ought  to  have  thought.  Really  he  never  knew  his  own 
worth.  Within  the  last  seventy-five  or  hundred  years  I  suppose 
there  have  been  seventy-five  or  a  hundred  Baptist  preachers 
of  the  name  of  Callaway.  I  have  known  of  but  two  Method- 
ist preachers  with  that  name.  One  was  a  member  of  the  old 
Alabama  Conference,  and  this  one  of  the  North  Georgia  Con- 
ference. In  this  instance  blood  was  stronger  than  water.  His 
Callaway  kin  were  his  warmest  friends  and  strongest  support- 
ers. His  memory  is  kindly  cherished  to  this  day  by  the  people 
of  LaGrange. 

164 


PART  FOUR 

LAST  APPOINTMENTS,  SUPERANNUATION,  AND 
PEACEFUL  WAITING 


CHAPTER  I 

Grantville,  Elberton,  and  Other  Circuits,  1874-82 

TN  1874,  1875,  ^^^  1876  Grantville  was  my  charge.  There 
were  four  strong  appointments:  Grantville,  Lutherville, 
Moreland,  and  Lone  Oak.  It  had  become  one  of  the  best  cir- 
cuits in  the  Conference.  We  had  three  very  prosperous  years 
there. 

In  1877  and  1878  I  was  in  Elberton,  on  the  South  Carolina 
line.  Elbert  County  is  another  one  of  the  best  in  the  State. 
I  may  mention  some  of  the  leading  men  who  were  there:  Col. 
Robert  Hester,  a  lawyer  of  prominence,  representative  of  his 
county  in  the  Legislature,  a  devoted  member  of  the  Church 
(never  missing  prayer  meeting  or  Sunday  school,  always  car- 
rying his  large  hymn  book,  and  delighting  to  sing  the  songs 
of  Zion)  ;  Maj.  J.  H.  Jones,  a  graduate  of  the  State  Univer- 
sity, a  leading  member  of  the  Church,  and  a  prominent  mer- 
chant and  planter ;  and  Col.  Thomas  J.  Bowman,  a  most  popu- 
lar and  leading  citizen  (I  think  he  was  Vice  President  of  a 
railroad).  These  men  went  to  quarterly  meetings  on  all  occa- 
sions, leaving  out  all  other  engagements.  Freeman  Auld  was 
one  of  the  best  all-round  men  tO'  be  found  anywhere.  He  act- 
ed as  Sunday  school  superintendent,  steward,  etc.,  nothing  ever 
standing  between  him  and  the  Church. 

In  that  coimty  I  found  my  old  colleague.  Rev.  J.  H.  Grogan. 
Mention  has  been  made  of  him  as  being  my  junior  on  the 
Watkinsville  Circuit  years  before.  He  was  an  active  and 
useful  member  of  the  Conference  for  many  years.  He  faith- 
fully filled  his  place  everywhere,  either  as  junior  preacher  or 
in  charge  of  a  circuit,  station,  or  district.     When  his  family 

167 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


increased,  he  decided  he  had  better  locate.  Being  a  man  of 
fine  judgment,  he  succeeded  in  farming,  in  merchandising, 
and  in  other  enterprises.  He  educated  his  family  well;  but 
his  interest  in  the  Church  never  abated,  and  he  was  looked  to 
as  a  wise  counselor.  We  were  devoted  friends  as  long  as  he 
lived. 

The  people  of  Elberton  dispensed  the  regular  old-time  hos- 
pitality, entertaining  in  their  homes  distinguished  men,  judges 
of  the  Superior  Court,  and  others  of  high  positions.  It  was 
another  place  where  were  found  a  number  of  the  best  of 
women.  When  I  went  there,  I  think  they  reported  that  they 
had  raised  by  their  sewing  society  a  thousand  dollars  toward 
building  a  new  church.  They  were  prayerful,  devout  Chris- 
tians. Chie  woman  told  me  that  she  had  read  Clarke's  "Com- 
mentary" through. 

The  new  church  was  already  finished,  and  I  was  the  first 
pastor  to  serve  in  it.  There  I  met  George  Loehr.  He  had 
done  good  work  in  a  store  with  Major  Jones.  He  treated  me 
with  kindness  and  assisted  me  in  many  ways  when  I  first  ar- 
rived. There  were  some  difficulties  in  his  way  in  getting  to 
Emory  College.  I  advised  and  did  all  I  could  to  get  him  to 
go.  His  long  and  valuable  service  in  China  is  known  every- 
where. 

We  had  two  pleasant  and  profitable  years  at  Elberton,  which 
is  now  a  large  and  flourishing  city. 

Going  on  the  back  track,  Watkinsville,  where  I  had  been 
twenty-six  years  before,  was  my  next  charge.  The  desolating 
war  had  come  and  stripped  the  people  of  their  property.  Many 
that  had  been  rich  I  now  found  poor,  but  nowhere  else  have  I 
been  more  cordially  received.  The  parsonage  was  then  the 
old  home  of  Bishop  Haygood's  father  and  mother  and  was  the 

1 68 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


house  in  which  he  was  born.  It  was  an  old-time,  two-story 
house,  built  for  room  and  convenience.  It  was  on  a  beautiful, 
level  site,  with  twenty-six  varieties  of  fruit  and  forest  trees, 
live  oaks  and  others  that  had  not  been  cut  down.  There  was 
a  well  of  good  water  and  an  old  dry  well  in  which  to  keep  milk 
cool.  Many  of  the  dear  friends  who  were  there  before  had 
gone  to  their  heavenly  homes — Sister  Johnson  and  others. 
Sister  Richardson  was  President  of  the  Woman's  Missionary 
Society  and  is  still  living  (1917).  Some  of  the  members  that 
were  received  the  first  time  I  was  there  were  then  leading 
members  of  the  Church.  At  Farmington  I  missed  Colonel 
Branch  and  Brother  Williams.  At  Salem  I  missed  Brothers 
Swinney,  Hester,  and  others.  At  Ray's,  where  we  had  a  most 
glorious  revival  in  1852,  the  Church  was  strengthened.  We 
built  a  beautiful,  well-proportioned  church,  after  which  many 
churches  were  modeled.  There  were  some  divisions  in  the 
Church,  which  were  considerably  removed. 

A  word  about  Bishop  Haygood.  When  I  was  at  Watkins- 
ville  the  first  time,  he  was  about  twelve  years  old.  His  father 
was  president  of  a  manufacturing  company.  Atticus  (Hay- 
good)  was  the  delivery  boy  with  a  small  horse  and  little 
wagon,  and  there  was  evidence  then  of  his  capacity  for  busi- 
ness. Receiving  his  order  for  goods,  he  gave  perfect  atten- 
tion, asking  his  father  to  repeat  the  order.  Away  he  went, 
and  in  a  short  time  the  goods  were  delivered. 

That  year  I  had  the  honor  and  pleasure  of  having  as  my 
guest  Dr.  J.  B.  McFerrin.  We  had  been  together  during  the 
war  on  some  of  the  bloodiest  battle  fields.  A  year  before,  at 
the  home  of  Judge  Reese,  we  occupied  the  same  room  in 
Washington  at  a  District  Conference.  Washington  was  the 
home  of  Robert  Toombs,  the  great  Senator.    In  his  last  days 

169 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


he  was  converted  and  was  a  very  humble  Christian.  Bishop 
Pierce  presided  at  that  District  Conference.  Dr.  McFerrin 
was  there  collecting  money  to  save  the  Publishing  House,  at 
Nashville,  which  had  become  greatly  involved.  Toombs  sat 
there,  a  most  interested  hearer,  with  tears  often  in  his  eyes. 
He  responded  to  the  appeal  with  one  thousand  dollars. 

The  next  year  the  District  Conference  was  at  Watkinsville, 
my  home,  and  Dr.  McFerrin  was  my  guest.  He  was  in  all 
respects  a  man  of  the  most  chaste  speech,  and  I  have  wondered 
that  this  has  not  been  noticed  by  others.  He  received  Presi- 
dent Polk  into  the  Church.  Mention  of  this  has  been  made 
in  the  Christian  Advocate.  As  Dr.  McFerrin  related  it  to 
me,  he  and  President  Polk  had  been  very  intimate  friends. 
Years  before  he  preached  a  sermon  which,  I  think,  led  to 
President  Polk's  conversion,  but  he  did  not  unite  with  the 
Church  then.  He  never  lost  the  influence  of  that  sermon ;  and 
when  the  end  was  near,  he  wanted  to  make  a  public  profession 
of  his  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  He  called  for  Dr.  Mc- 
Ferrin and  told  him  that  he  wanted  him  to  baptize  him  and 
administer  the  sacrament  to  him.  Polk's  wife  was  a  Presby- 
terian and  a  devout  Christian.  They  took  communion  to- 
gether. 

Dr.  McFerrin  was  once  connected  with  a  mission  to  the 
Cherokees  at  Gunter's  Landing.  He  often  referred  to  it  with 
a  great  deal  of  interest.  I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  an 
account  of  it  in  any  history  of  Methodism.  In  1828-29  he 
was  one  of  the  first  missionaries  in  Western  Georgia.  On 
the  Chattooga  Mission  in  1829  he  held  a  camp  meeting  with 
the  Indians  in  Dirt  Town  Valley.  He  served  two  or  three 
years  on  missions.  He  was  often  the  guest  of  John  Ross,  the 
chief  who  headed  his  letters,  "Cherokee  Nation,  at  the  Head 

170 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


of  the  Coosa."  So  religious  light  came  to  Georgia  from  the 
West. 

Dr.  McFerrin  and  I  were  together  in  some  of  the  bloodiest 
battles  around  Atlanta.  On  a  beautiful  Sabbath,  with  many 
wounded  soldiers  around  him,  he  spoke  from  the  text:  "The 
sun  shall  shine  on  you  no  more."  We  could  not  place  them  in 
the  shade,  so  the  sermon  was  most  appropriate. 

At  that  time  that  section  was  in  the  Tennessee  Conference, 
which  came  down  through  North  Alabama  and  east  to  Geor- 
gia. Afterwards  it  was  in  the  Holston  Conference  with  the 
rest  of  North  Georgia.  It  was  nearly  twenty  years  after- 
wards that  Georgia  preachers  went  there. 

On  the  back  track  again.  Kingston  is  in  Bartow  County, 
one  of  the  best  cotmties  in  the  State.  Going  back  a  little  in 
history,  we  find  that  the  coimty  was  first  named  Cass,  for 
Lewis  Cass,  of  Michigan,  who  was  one  of  the  leading  states- 
men of  his  day.  He  was  Governor,  Senator,  Foreign  Minister, 
and  was  popular  in  both  the  North  and  the  South.  When  the 
county  was  first  organized,  Cassville  was  the  name  of  the 
county  seat.  Cassville  became  one  of  the  leading  towns  of 
that  part  of  the  country.  The  members  of  the  bar  compared 
with  the  best  lawyers  in  the  State.  Judge  Tripp  presided  over 
the  Superior  Court  for  a  number  of  years,  and  so  did  A.  J. 
Wright.  One  of  the  prominent  lawyers  was  Warren  Aiken. 
H.  V.  Miller,  the  Demosthenes  of  the  mountains,  once  a  Unit- 
ed States  Senator  and  professor  in  the  medical  college  in  At- 
lanta, Dr.  W.  H.  Felton,  many  years  a  member  of  Congress, 
Dr.  Rawls,  and  other  professionals  worthy  of  mention  lived 
there.  A  male  and  a  female  college  were  patronized  from  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  State.  The  citizens  of  the  town  compared 
well  with  these  professionals.    The  county  could  boast  of  some 

171 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


leading  citizens  of  the  State — Johnsons,  Gilreaths,  Weemses, 
Jacksons,  and  many  others.  The  land  was  fertile,  and  the 
people  lived  in  good,  comfortable  houses.  These  were  the 
conditions  when  I  first  saw  Cass  County,  in  1845. 

When  the  dark  days  of  war  came,  Cass  County  suffered 
greatly.  There  was  no  county  that  suffered  more.  Gen. 
Joseph  E.  Johnston,  in  his  memorable  retreat  before  General 
Sherman,  consumed  nearly  all  there  was  to  eat  for  man  and 
beast.  He  was  there  in  1864  and  cut  off  the  growing  crop. 
Then  Sherman  followed,  devastating  the  whole  country,  and 
his  crowning  act  of  vandalism  was  to  send  an  officer  there  to 
bum  the  town  and  not  leave  a  gatepost  standing.  Take  a 
case:  The  clerk  of  the  Superior  Court  had  been  dead  about 
three  months.  His  family  was  in  a  good  two-story  house. 
In  tears  the  widow  begged  for  her  house  to  be  spared  and 
displayed  the  emblems  of  Masonry.  He  went  upstairs,  opened 
all  the  windows,  kindled  a  blazing  fire,  and  the  house  was 
reduced  to  ashes.  That  night  she  and  her  children  slept  near 
the  wall  of  the  cemetery  under  a  shelter  of  planks.  The  court- 
house, colleges,  and  all  went  up  in  the  flames.  There  was  not 
an  able-bodied  man,  white  or  black,  there.  The  town  was 
almost  deserted.  There  may  have  been  an  old  negro  man 
there  barely  able  to  shoulder  a  peck  of  corn  and  go  to  mill. 
Old  Cassville  was  never  rebuilt.  The  name  of  the  county  was 
changed  from  Cass  to  Bartow,  and  Cartersville  became  the 
seat  of  the  county.  I  learned  what  is  here  stated  from  the 
lips  of  the  lady  whose  house  was  burned. 

Some  years  after  the  war  I  saw  General  Sherman  in  citi- 
zen's dress,  and  I  thought  he  had  a  mean  look.  I  could  not 
say  as  mildly  as  Henry  Grady  did  when  Sherman  burned 
Columbia,  South  Carolina:  "He  was  a  little  careless  with  fire." 

172 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


Kingston  is  about  seven  miles  from  old  Cassville  and  rep- 
resents a  good  part  of  what  is  now  Bartow  and  Gordon  Coun- 
ties. The  first  preacher  sent  there  after  the  war  (in  1866) 
was  Gen.  C.  A.  Evans.  This  was  his  first  work  in  the 
Conference.  The  people  had  had  no  preacher  for  three 
years.  He  went  with  his  wife  and  children.  At  first  the 
people  were  a  little  awed  at  the  title  "General."  He  visited 
the  humblest  homes,  visited  the  sick,  and  buried  the  dead.  At 
the  close  of  the  year  he  was  returned  for  the  same  hard  work, 
and  so  was  he  sent  back  the  third  year.  The  people  rallied  to 
him  and  did  what  they  could  to  support  him.  At  the  end  of 
the  third  year  they  lacked  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  of 
having  their  assessments  paid  in  full,  and  two  men  paid  that. 
They  were  George  Gilreath  and  Warren  Aiken.  They  met 
and  consulted,  saying:  "The  people  have  done  all  they  can,  but 
we  cannot  let  the  preacher  go  without  the  money."  Aiken 
said:  'T  collected  an  old  fee  of  two  hundred  dollars  which  I 
never  expected  to  get,  and  I'll  pay  seventy-five  dollars  of  the 
deficit."  Gilreath  said:  "I  have  my  fattening  hogs  for  my 
year's  meat  in  the  pens.  I  can  sell  them  and  get  the  money 
and  risk  living  on  the  shoats.  I'll  pay  the  other  seventy-five 
dollars."  So  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  was  paid,  and 
they  were  two  very  happy  men. 

Now  let  me  tell  something  about  these  men.  That  grand 
man,  Jesse  Mercer,  who  did  more  for  the  Baptist  Church 
than  any  other  man,  has  done  a  great  deal  for  the  State. 
When  the  race  between  Troup  and  Clark  for  Governor  was 
over  and  all  the  votes  were  counted  but  four,  it  was  found 
that  there  was  a  tie.  The  four  were  all  for  Troup.  With  his 
hat  in  his  hand,  Mr.  Mercer  said:  "Thank  the  Lord!"  He 
looked  after  his  people  in  both  large  and  small  things  and 

173 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


advised  them  to  name  their  babies  after  great  men.  This  was 
the  aim  when  Bishop  Candler  was  a  baby,  so  he  was  named 
Warren  Aiken. 

General  Evans  at  different  times  filled  the  appointments  at 
Athens,  Atlanta,  and  Augusta.  Brother  Gilreath  had  some  ec- 
centricities of  character.  His  wife  died,  and  he  was  lonely; 
so  in  due  time  he  sought  another  companion.  There  was  a 
widow  suitable  in  age  and  highly  esteemed  by  all.  She  lived 
about  halfway  between  Cartersville  and  his  home.  He  called 
to  see  her  one  day  and  told  her  that  the  Bible  says  it  is  not 
good  for  man  to  be  alone,  and  he  asked  her  to  consider  the 
question  and  give  him  an  answer  as  soon  as  she  could.  He 
said  he  was  going  to  Cartersville  and  would  be  back  about 
two  o'clock,  and  that  if  she  thought  favorably  of  what  he 
asked  to  have  a  white  handkerchief  hanging  by  the  window. 
When  he  came  by,  the  handkerchief  was  there.  They  were 
married  in  a  few  days,  and  it  was  a  very  happy  couple. 

My  stay  in  Kingston  in  1881  and  1882  was  a  very  good  one. 
They  had  an  excellent  parsonage  and  were  very  kind  to  me. 
I  cherish  the  kindest  feeling  toward  Kingston. 

174 


CHAPTER  II 

SUMMERVILLE,    SeNOIA,   TrOUP,    HaMPTON,   AND  TuRIN, 

1883-94 

TN  1883  I  was  back  in  Summerville.  This  was  my  third 
charge  and  has  already  been  written  of. 

In  1884,  1885,  1886,  and  1887  I  was  pastor  of  Senoia  Cir- 
cuit. This  is  in  Coweta  County.  We  had  four  good  years 
here.  Senoia  was  comparatively  a  new  town.  Its  settlers 
were  first-class  people.  Among  the  prominent  names  may  be 
mentioned  the  Hunnicutts,  Haralsons,  Couches,  and  Smiths. 
I  was  there  four  years,  and  in  the  changing  of  lines  I  was  in 
three  districts  and  had  four  presiding  elders. 

In  1888  I  was  returned  as  pastor  of  Troup  Circuit.  I  shall 
mention  only  one  meeting  held  there.  It  was  held  at  Salem 
and  was  most  glorious,  sixty  people  having  been  converted  in 
three  or  four  days.  Out  of  that  revival  we  have  received 
several  valuable  preachers. 

In  1889,  1890,  and  1891  my  pastoral  charge  was  Hampton 
Circuit.  Hampton  is  a  good  railroad  town,  but  it  is  not  the 
seat  of  Henry  County.  McDonough  is  the  county  seat.  This 
coimty  was  a  new  locality  to  me.  It  has  been  noted  as  the 
ecclesiastical  battle  ground  of  the  different  Churches — their 
disputes  and  divisions.  One  of  the  first  was  a  "split-off"  of  a 
denomination  called  Bible  Christians.  They  are  extinct  now. 
The  next  were  the  Methodists.  Leaving  the  Methodist  Epis- 
copal Church,  the  Protestant  Methodists,  fighting  against 
bishops  and  presiding  elders,  all  were  not  satisfied  with  that, 
but  formed  the  Congregational  Methodists.  The  next  was 
what  is  now  called  the  Christian  Church.    They  were  at  first 

175 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


called  Campbellites.  Their  great  leader  was  Alexander  Camp- 
bell, a  Presbyterian  preacher  who  came  from  Scotland  and  at 
first  in  some  way  united  with  the  Baptist  Church.  Campbell 
was  a  man  of  great  ability.  There  was  a  great  debate  between 
him  and  an  infidel  named  Owens  in  Cincinnati,  Ohio.  Camp- 
bell triumphed,  and  this  gave  him  world-wide  popularity. 
I  saw  him  in  1848.  He  was  a  small  man,  and  there  was  noth- 
ing striking  in  his  appearance.  His  followers,  as  I  have  said, 
were  called  Campbellites.  The  main  point  with  them  was 
baptism  by  immersion,  quoting:  "Believe  and  be  baptized,  and 
you  are  saved."  They  have  had  sharp  contentions  with  other 
denominations.  They  are  now  known  generally  as  the  Chris- 
tian Church  and  are  numerous  in  the  North,  West,  and  South. 
The  Baptists  had  their  part  in  the  split.  Their  leader's  name 
was  White,  and  his  followers  are  known  at  Whitites.  They 
are  about  extinct,  and  I  do  not  know  just  what  was  the  cause 
of  the  split.  Then  there  were  the  Hardshell  and  Missionary 
Baptists.  I  have  respect  for  all  denominations  of  Christians. 
One  of  the  leading  Hardshell  preachers  had  a  small  congrega- 
tion while  I  was  at  Hampton.  I  always  went  to  hear  him 
when  I  could.  The  first  hymn  he  gave  out  was,  "Jesus,  Lover 
of  my  soul,"  one  of  Wesley's  hymns. 

While  I  was  there  the  war  ceased  between  the  Christian 
Church  and  the  others.  So  far  as  I  know,  the  Methodist 
Church  was  the  strongest,  with  some  of  the  very  best  mem- 
bers. William  Turnipseed  led  the  singing,  worked  in  prayer 
meetings,  was  a  leading  steward  and  a  successful  business 
man  in  the  place.  Brother  Mat  Harris,  William  Wilson,  Sis- 
ter Henderson,  and  other  excellent  people  were  prominent 
members. 

We  had  a  good  membership  at  Sunnyside  and  also  at  Mount 

176 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


Carmel.  All  in  all,  my  parishioners  on  this  circuit  were  ex- 
cellent people,  and  they  treated  us  well.  My  good  friend,  A. 
J.  Henderson,  gave  me  a  walking  stick,  which  has  rendered  me 
great  service ;  and  as  I  get  older  I  prize  it  all  the  more,  since 
it  has  been  twenty-five  or  twenty-six  years  since  he  presented 
it  to  me. 

In  1892,  1893,  and  1894  Turin  was  my  charge.     This  is 
also  in  Coweta  County,  and  it  had  some  of  the  best  people  and 
Church  members  in  the  Conference. 
12  177 


CHAPTER  III 
Atlanta  and  Superannuation,  1895-97 

A  SBURY  was  my  last  pastoral  charge,  and  I  always  called 
it  my  "baby"  appointment.  From  first  to  last,  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Church  and  friends  treated  us  most  kindly.  We 
dwelt  together  in  harmony  and  love.  There  were  then  the 
North  Atlanta  and  South  Atlanta  Districts,  and  the  preachers' 
meeting  was  held  every  Monday  morning  at  ten  o'clock.  Aft- 
er the  death  of  Rev.  H.  H.  Parks,  the  brethren  honored  me 
with  the  chairmanship  of  the  meeting,  and  I  continued  as 
chairman  as  long  as  I  remained  in  the  city.  As  a  token  of 
love  they  presented  me  with  a  beautiful  gold-headed  cane.  I 
cannot  express  my  high  appreciation  of  their  regard. 

The  Atlanta  Ministerial  Association,  an  association  of  all 
the  evangelical  ministers,  met  once  a  month.  It  was  a  great 
privilege  to  meet  and  get  acquainted  with  these  good  men. 
When  leaving  them  they  sang,  "Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds  our 
hearts  in  Christian  love."  So  I  carry  with  me  to  this  day 
pleasant  memories  of  our  stay  in  Atlanta. 

Our  golden  wedding  took  place  at  Asbury  Church,  February 
2,  1895.  The  people  of  our  charge  wanted  to  prepare  the 
supper,  but  our  children  desired  that  privilege.  Part  of  the 
feast  came  from  four  places  besides  Atlanta.  Rev.  W.  F. 
Glenn,  D.D.,  officiated,  and  I  baptized  some  of  my  grand- 
children. It  was  a  simple  and  precious  service,  calling  us  to 
remember  how  the  Lord  had  led  us  these  fifty  years.  The 
members  of  Asbury  and  numerous  other  friends  entered  heart- 
ily into  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  our  marriage. 

I   suj>erannuated   at  the   Conference   of    1897   at  Athens. 

178 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


Bishop  Galloway  presided.  My  home  was  at  one  of  the  best 
places,  with  Brother  Nickerson,  a  prosperous  man,  who  made 
benevolent  use  of  what  he  had.  The  Nickersons  were  deeply 
interested  in  the  Wesley  family,  and  they  owned  a  hymn  book 
that  was  once  the  property  of  Charles  Wesley.  They  also  had 
some  spoons  and  other  mementos  of  the  Wesleys.  Being  on 
no  committees,  I  was  free  to  enjoy  the  Conference.  All  were 
pleased  with  Bishop  Galloway.  When  a  certain  presiding 
elder's  name  was  called,  the  Bishop  said  that  in  Mississippi 
the  people  reported  that  one  of  the  presiding  elders  had  deliv- 
ered a  new  sermon. 

Several  months  before  the  Conference  I  had  made  up  my 
mind  to  superannuate  and  had  so  informed  my  presiding  elder 
and  stewards.  I  felt  that  I  should  not  stand  in  the  way  of 
younger  and  stronger  men.  My  wife's  health  had  not  been 
good  for  some  time;  so  I  had  no  tears  to  shed  as  an  old  sol- 
dier leaving  the  battle  ground,  but  felt  thankful  that  I  had 
been  permitted  to  serve  as  long  as  I  had. 

179 


CHAPTER  IV 
The  Wife  and  Mother  in  the  Home 

"jV/TY  wife  was  my  greatest  help  in  my  pastoral  work.  She 
was  my  best  critic,  and  therefore  she  was  of  inestimable 
value  to  me  in  my  preaching. 

Only  a  true  mother  knows  what  mother  love  means  and  the 
duties  and  obligations  to  her  children.  This  Rachel  realized, 
and  from  first  to  last  she  asked  the  guidance  and  help  of  the 
Lord.  We  had  twelve  children,  sixteen  grandchildren,  and 
eighteen  great-grandchildren.  Three  of  our  children  died  in 
infancy,  and  nine  lived  to  be  grown.  When  the  first-bom,  a 
boy,  was  old  enough,  he  bowed  at  his  mother's  knee,  and  she 
taught  him  the  prayer  lisped  by  millions  of  infant  lips,  "Now 
I  lay  me  down  to  sleep."  Each  child  that  followed  bowed  at 
the  same  mother's  knee  and  was  taught  the  same  prayer. 
When  the  children  were  older,  Rachel  saw  that  every  one  was 
in  place  morning  and  evening  for  family  prayer.  She  would 
say  to  them,  "Now  you  listen  to  pa  as  he  reads  and  prays," 
her  earnest  face  showing  that  she  was  in  tuneful  accord  with 
the  service.  These  prayers,  especially  in  the  evening,  when  I 
had  been  absent  for  days  and  perhaps  weeks,  were  occasions 
for  thanksgiving  that  the  Lord  had  prospered  us  and  kept  us 
in  the  hollow  of  his  hand.  Indeed,  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
seemed  to  be  encamped  round  about  us,  and  wherever  we 
moved  he  was  our  Companion  and  Guard.  Our  one  aim  was 
to  "seek  the  Lord  and  his  righteousness." 

The  question  often  arose,  "What  shall  we  eat,  and  where- 
withal shall  we  be  clothed?"  Mother  became  the  center  and 
stay  of  the  home.  When  the  time  came  for  the  children  to 
begin  school,  the  mother  saw  that  they  were  ready,  and  they 

1 80 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


started  with  her  kiss  and  blessing  upon  them.  The  five  boys 
all  touched  Emory  College  at  some  time,  either  in  the  prepara- 
tory or  collegiate  department.  All  did  not  graduate,  but  each 
was  benefited.  The  girls  all  received  a  collegiate  education, 
both  literary  and  musical.  The  day  the  last  one  received  her 
diploma  President  Rufus  W.  Smith  gave  her  a  receipt  for  the 
final  payment.  Who  toiled  more  than  any  other  or  suffered 
more  anxiety  or  rejoiced  more  over  this  great  achievement  of 
educating  so  many  children  ?    Their  mother,  of  course. 

My  wife  was  my  counselor  in  all  temporal  affairs  and  said: 
"Let  us  never  go  in  debt  without  a  probability  of  paying." 
She  could  tell  me  when  to  go  and  where  to  go.  If  a  dark 
shadow  had  fallen  upon  a  family,  she  would  say:  "Go  at  once 
to  see  them.  To  be  neglected  now  would  hurt  them;  to 
go  now  may  do  them  good  hereafter."  She  was  of  a  social 
disposition  and  enjoyed  visiting  and  being  visited  by  her  neigh- 
bors. She  made  friends  wherever  we  went ;  and  the  longer  we 
stayed,  the  stronger  were  the  bonds  of  friendship. 

She  believed  that  a  preacher  should  study  and  prepare 
himself  for  the  pulpit.  She  always  arranged  that  I  might 
have  full  and  undisturbed  opportunity  tO'  study.  She  thought 
that  a  preacher  ought  to  attend  Conference,  and  she  made 
every  preparation  for  me  to  do  so.  How  carefully  she  packed 
my  valise!  Once  when  she  was  sick,  but  improving,  I  hesi- 
tated about  going.  "O  yes,"  she  said;  "I'm  getting  better 
and  will  be  taken  care  of.  Go  and  get  all  the  inspiration  and 
benefit  you  can  out  of  the  Conference."  As  I  have  said,  she 
was  my  best  critic.  If  I  said  anything  in  the  pulpit  that  should 
not  have  been  said,  she  heard  it.  While  reading  to  her  an 
article  for  publication,  if  she  requested  that  I  read  a  part  of 
it  over,  I  knew  that  it  needed  correction  or  ought  to  be  left  out. 

i8i 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


She  was  extremely  modest  and  was  as  unpretentious  as  mod- 
est. 

The  late  Rev.  G.  G.  Smith,  D.D.,  was  my  junior  preacher 
during  his  first  year  in  Conference,  and  much  of  the  time  he 
was  in  my  home.  In  my  wife's  obituary,  which  he  wrote  for 
the  Wesleyan  Christian  Advocate  soon  after  her  death,  he  said : 
"She  was  a  queenly  woman." 

One  line  inviolably  sacred  she  never  crossed,  that  which 
pertained  to  my  duty  as  a  preacher.  If  I  asked  her  about  the 
weather,  as  to  whether  I  should  go  or  not,  her  answer  would 
be:  "That  is  with  your  conscience.  You  must  decide."  She 
would  have  stood  before  a  cannon's  mouth  before  she  would 
have  interfered  with  my  duty. 

In  the  fifty-three  years  of  my  pastorate  she  never  said:  "If 
I  were  you,  I  would  locate  or  superannuate."  I  simply  told 
my  presiding  elder,  John  W.  Heidt,  D.D.,  of  my  plan  to  super- 
annuate, that  he  might  provide  for  the  appointment  for  the 
next  year.  When  I  told  her,  she  said:  "It  will  be  better  for  us 
now.  and  it  will  be  our  last  packing  and  moving." 

182 


CHAPTER  V 
Newnan  and  Coweta  County 

"[XyT  ANY  inducements  led  us  here.  We  had  sen'^ed  eleven 
years  in  Coweta  County.  We  were  at  Grantville  and 
Senoia  four  years  each  and  at  Turin  three  years.  Some  of 
our  children  and  grandchildren  were  living  here.  The  people 
received  us  kindly  and  have  always  been  good  since. 

We  had  our  own  home  and  greatly  enjoyed  it.  Though  I 
was  seventy-five  and  Rachel  seventy- four,  we  started  out  as 
beginners.  We  put  out  strawberries,  grapevines,  and  fruit 
trees.    Rachel  saw  the  garden  planted  twice. 

On  September  22,  1899,  Rachel  fell  and  fractured  her  hip 
joint  and  was  never  able  to  walk  again  without  crutches.  She 
was  a  patient  sufferer  for  nearly  three  years.  A  few  times 
she  could  ride  out ;  and  the  last  time  was  in  the  spring,  when 
she  went  into  the  woods  to  see  the  trees  and  flowers  and  hear 
the  birds  sing.  Her  patience  and  submission  in  her  suffering 
were  wonderful  to  me.  The  end  came  at  three  o'clock  on  a 
calm  June  day,  and  without  a  struggle  she  passed  peacefully 
away.  I  had  looked  upon  that  face  when  it  shone  in  the  beauty 
of  youth.  I  saw  the  color  of  life  fade  away  and  change  to 
the  paleness  of  death.  In  a  moment  there  was  on  her  face  an 
expression  of  peace  and  calmness.  She  often  spoke  of  that 
passage  of  Scripture:  "For  we  know  that  if  our  earthly  house 
of  this  tabernacle  were  dissolved,  we  have  a  building  of  God, 
a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens."  This 
was  a  favorite  verse  of  hers,  and  the  thought  came:  Has 
her  spirit  reached  that  happy  place?  It  was  one  of  the  most 
peaceful  deaths  I  ever  saw.     The  next  day  the  same  sweet 

183 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


expression  was  on  her  face  when  I  kissed  those  cold  Hps  for 
the  last  time  and  the  lid  of  the  casket  was  drawn  over  her 
face.  The  funeral  took  place  at  the  First  Methodist  Church, 
all  the  pastors  of  the  city  taking  part,  and  we  laid  her  to  rest 
in  a  spot  ever  sacredly  dear  to  me  in  Newnan's  lovely  city  of 
the  dead. 

Rachel  was  born  August  ii,  1824.  We  were  married  Feb- 
ruary 2,  1845,  and  lived  happily  together  fifty-seven  years  and 
four  months.  She  died  June  4,  1902.  She  was  a  member  of 
the  Church  for  sixty  years. 

When  we  first  moved  to  Newnan,  I  was  able  to  do  some 
Church  work.  I  was  supernumerary  Sunday  school  teacher, 
from  the  infant  class  to  the  oldest,  and  preached  sometimes  in 
the  Baptist  and  Presbyterian  churches,  as  well  as  in  the  Meth- 
odist. The  people  are  always  very  kind  to  me  on  my  birthday. 
The  house  is  always  filled,  and  we  have  a  song  and  a  prayer 
before  they  go.  They  have  a  beautiful  memorial  window  to 
the  left  of  the  pulpit.    This  token  of  love  is  highly  appreciated. 

Where  did  Coweta  County  get  its  name  ?  We  find  the  fol- 
lowing in  Evans's  "History  of  Georgia,"  page  28: 

Fearing  that  the  French  and  Spanish  would  ahenate  the  good  will  of 
the  Indians,  Oglethorpe  decided  to  go  in  person  to  a  great  meeting  of  the 
warriors  at  Coweta  Town,  three  hundred  miles  from  Savannah.  Seven 
thousand  warriors  were  to  be  present,  and  the  safety  of  Georgia  depended 
on  their  friendship.  The  journey  was  a  long  and  dangerous  one,  but 
Oglethorpe  did  not  allow  the  perils  to  deter  him.  With  a  few  chosen 
friends  he  set  out  in  Jul}^,  1739.  Following  the  river  for  twenty-five  miles, 
the  party  landed  and  submitted  to  the  guidance  of  Indian  traders.  Across 
deep  ravines,  through  tangled  undergrowth  and  deep  swamps,  where  the 
horses  would  mire  up,  the  travelers  toiled  for  many  weary  weeks.  Often 
they  had  to  build  rafts  on  which  to  cross  the  streams.  The  smaller  ones 
they  swam  or  waded  through.  At  night  Oglethorpe  would  wrap  himself 
in  his  cloak,  lay  his  head  upon  his  saddle,  and  sleep  on  the  ground.     If 

184 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


the  ground  happened  to  be  wet,  he  sought  shelter  under  the  trees  or  under 
a  tent  made  of  cypress  boughs.  For  over  two  hundred  miles  they  neither 
saw  a  human  dwelling  nor  met  a  living  soul.  At  their  journey's  end  the 
Indians  met  them  with  every  expression  of  love  and  joy.  Oglethorpe  soon 
won  the  hearts  of  the  red  men,  and  he  made  firm  treaties  of  peace  and 
friendship  with  them.  As  one  of  their  beloved  men,  he  drank  of  their 
black  medicine  and  smoked  the  calumet,  or  pipe  of  peace.  The  importance 
of  this  treaty,  in  view  of  the  approaching  troubles  with  the  Spaniards,  can- 
not be  overestimated.  Old  Coweta  is  three  miles  from  Columbus  and 
richly  deserves  to  have  the  county  named  for  it. 

Coweta  County  had  been  well  advertised  all  over  the  United 
States  by  the  sharp  contention  between  President  Adams  and 
Governor  Troup.  It  was  organized  in  1826;  and  many  good 
people  from  Virginia,  North  Carolina,  South  Carolina,  and 
Eastern  Georgia  became  its  first  settlers,  and  they  came  to 
stay.  I  have  never  been  in  a  county  where  so  many  of  the 
first  settlers  remained — Pages,  Smiths,  Carmichaels,  Leighs, 
Taylors,  and  Norths.  More  need  not  be  mentioned,  but  there 
are  many  who  deserve  the  highest  praise.  Among  these  good 
people  there  were  Methodists,  Baptists,  Presbyterians,  and 
Lutherans.  They  established  schools  and  churches.  Prof.  T. 
E.  Atkinson,  a  graduate  of  Emory  College  and  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Virginia,  taught  a  high  school  at  Senoia  for  several 
years.  Senoia  is  named  for  an  old  Indian  and  is  a  fine  com- 
mimity.  The  county  has  contributed  a  full  share  of  able 
statesmen  and  preachers  as  well.  Rev.  C.  D.  Atkinson,  now 
presiding  elder  of  the  Shreveport  (Louisiana)  District,  is  a 
Coweta  boy.  Rev.  R.  F.  Hodnett,  a  valuable  member  of  the 
Florida  Conference,  and  A.  S.  Hutchinson  are  Coweta  boys 
and  graduates  of  Emory  College.  Before  closing  my  book  let 
me  say  that  Rev.  Dabney  P.  Jones,  the  great  prohibition  apos- 
tle, preached  the  first  sermon  in  Newnan  in  the  little  log  house 
that  served  as  the  courtroom. 

185 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


For  whom  was  Newnan,  the  seat  of  Coweta  County,  named  ? 
Daniel  Newnan,  who  was  born  in  Rowan  County,  North 
Carolina,  in  1780.  He  was  commissioned  second  lieuten- 
ant in  the  Fourth  United  States  Infantry  on  March  3, 
1799,  and  was  promoted  to  first  lieutenant  the  following  No- 
vember. He  resigned  January  i,  1801.  He  commanded 
Georgia  volunteers,  was  captain  of  militia  in  two  actions 
with  the  East  Florida  Indians  in  September  and   October, 

1 81 2,  and  was  conspicuous  in  an  attack  on  the  Owtasee  towns 
of  the  Creek  Indians,  under  Gen.  John  Floyd,  November  2, 

181 3,  and  was  promoted  to  lieutenant  colonel.  The  following 
month  he  was  severely  wounded  in  an  engagement  with  the 
Creeks  at  Camp  Defiance,  in  what  is  now  Elmore  County, 
Alabama,  under  the  same  commanding  general.  After  the 
war  he  resided  on  his  plantation,  near  McDonough,  in  Henry 
County,  and  was  made  adjutant  general  of  the  State  militia. 
He  was  elected  to  Congress  as  a  State  Rights  Democrat  and 
served  from  March  5,  183 1,  to  March  5,  1833. 

General  Newnan  was  elected  adjutant  general  by  the  Legis- 
lature of  Georgia  in  181 2.  On  November  13,  181 3,  it  was 
resolved  by  the  General  Assembly  that  the  Governor  be  re- 
quested to  transmit  to  General  Newnan  the  brevet  commission 
of  brigadier  general.  During  the  expedition  against  the  In- 
dians a  clerk  was  elected  to  his  office,  and  he  was  to  retain  his 
salary  as  adjutant  general;  but  he  received  pay  as  brigadier 
only  while  in  the  service.  In  January,  1814,  he  was  given  a 
vote  of  thanks  by  the  General  Assembly  for  the  courage,  pa- 
triotism, and  fortitude  manifested  in  his  service  against  the 
Creeks.  On  November  8,  181 7,  he  was  elected  by  the  Legis- 
lature and  commissioned  by  the  Governor  as  Major  General 
of  the  Georgia  Militia,  Third  Division.     On  December  12, 

186 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


1823,  he  was  elected  principal  keeper  of  the  penitentiary;  and 
on  November  24,  1825,  he  was  elected  by  the  Legislature  to 
the  position  of  Secretary  of  State. 

General  Newnan  died  January  16,  1851,  in  Walker  County 
(now  Catoosa),  near  the  Tennessee  line,  two  miles  east  of 
Rossville  and  a  mile  or  two  from  the  Chickamauga  battle 
field.  He  died  on  Peavine  Ridge,  three  miles  from  his  grave. 
He  was  there  for  his  health.  He  was  buried  at  Newnan 
Springs. 

187 


CHAPTER  VI 
Ordinations  and  Appointments 

T  HAVE  been  a  Methodist  preacher  seventy-three  years.  I 
was  ordained  deacon  by  Bishop  Capers  at  Macon  in  De- 
cember, 1846,  and  ordained  elder  by  the  same  Bishop  at  Au- 
gusta on  January  13,  1849.  I  received  appointments  from 
eighteen  bishops,  all  of  whom  are  dead  except  Bishop  Joseph 
S.  Key,  D.D.,  who  resides  at  Sherman,  Texas,  coming  to  the 
end  of  a  long  and  useful  life  with  the  admiration  and  love  of 
a  great  multitude.  My  first  appointment  was  from  Bishop 
Joshua  Soule  in  January,  1845  ;  the  last,  from  Bishop  Alpheus 
W.  Wilson  in  1896.  I  served  under  twenty-six  presiding  eld- 
ers while  in  the  active  ministry,  none  of  whom  survive.  I  can 
truly  say,  "My  company  is  gone  before" ;  yet  I  am  happy  in 
the  respect  and  love  of  the  younger  generation,  as  well  as  of 
a  constantly  decreasing  few  who,  like  myself,  linger  on  the 
shores  of  time  awaiting  the  call  to  come  up  higher. 

On  entering  the  Methodist  ministry  I  paid  especial  attention 
to  the  Discipline  and  the  general  laws  of  the  Church.  Upon 
the  decision  in  three  cases  I  differed  with  three  presiding  eld- 
ers, all  of  whom  yielded  to  my  construction  of  law.  One 
case  went  to  Bishop  McTyeire,  one  of  our  greatest  ecclesias- 
tical statesmen.  He  wrote  to  me,  and  in  his  letter  he  separated 
the  words  with  hyphens:  "I-think-you-are- wrong."  Bishop 
Pierce  answered  me:  "You  are  right."  And  thus  the  case 
stood. 

For  more  than  twenty-five  years  I  served  on  committees  of 
examination  and  was  a  member  of  that  committee  before 
which  the  present  Bishop  Candler  came  as  a  candidate  for 

188 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


admission  on  trial.  I  reminded  the  Bishop  that  he  was  ad- 
mitted by  my  approval.  I  served  on  the  Board  of  Finance 
for  many  years,  sometimes  being  its  chairman.  I  have  been 
also  on  the  Board  of  Church  Extension,  and  it  afforded  me 
great  pleasure  to  assist  the  Churches  in  the  needy  fields.  I 
tried  my  best  to  fill  every  place  to  which  I  was  assigned  by 
the  proper  authorities.  I  thank  God  for  any  service  I  have 
been  able  to  give  in  his  name  for  the  advancement  of  the 
human  race  and  the  glory  of  our  blessed  Saviour. 

Following  is  a  list  of  my  numerous  appointments:  Dah- 
lonega  Circuit,  1845;  Blairsville  Mission,  1846;  Summerville 
Circuit,  1847;  Marietta  Circuit,  1848;  Clarksville  Circuit, 
1849;  Canton  Circuit,  1850;  Gainesville  Circuit,  185 1;  Wat- 
kinsville  Circuit,  1852-53;  Carnesville,  1854;  Warrenton, 
1855-56;  Waynesboro,  1857-58;  Sandersville  Circuit,  1859; 
Sandersville  Station,  i860;  Culloden  Circuit,  1861 ;  Greens- 
boro Circuit,  1862-63;  Forsyth  Circuit,  1864-65;  Fort  Valley, 
1866;  Whitesville  Circuit,  1867-68;  Grantville  Circuit  and 
Principal  of  Grantville  High  School,  1869;  Troup  Circuit, 
1870-72;  LaGrange  Female  College,  1873;  Grantville  Circuit, 
1874-76;  Elberton,  1877-78;  Watkinsville  Circuit,  1879-80; 
Kingston,  1881-82;  Summerville,  1883;  Senoia,  1884-87; 
Troup  Circuit,  1888;  Hampton  Circuit,  1889-91;  Turin  Cir- 
cuit, 1892-94;  Asbury,  Atlanta,  1895-97. 

AN  APPRECIATION 

Newnan,  Georgia,  October  4,  1912. 
Rev.  W.  J.  Cotter,  City 

Dear  Brother  Cotier:  Tne  Building  Committee  of  the  First  Methodist 

Church  takes  pleasuie  in  >ioti<"ying  you  fict  the  entire  membership  of  the 

Church,  wishing  in  a  feeble  way  to  show  you  how  deeply  and  truly  they 

love  you  and  in  what  tender  and  affecricnc^.te  regard  you  are  held  by  us 

all,  have  set  apart  and  dedicated  to  you  one  of  the  windows  of  our  new 

189 


MY   AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


church  and  have  inscribed  thereon  your  name,  in  feeble  token  of  your 
faithful,  aflfectionate,  and  devoted  work,  your  earnest  and  consecrated  life 
and  example,  and  your  tender  and  unselfish  eflforts  of  love  for  our  Church. 
We  herewith  give  you  a  copy  of  the  message  of  the  Church  in  making  their 
freewill  offering  in  testimony  of  this  love  and  appreciation : 

"We,  the  members  of  the  First  Methodist  Church  of  Newnan,  wishing 
to  show  in  some  way  our  love  and  affection  for  Brother  W.  J.  Cotter,  and 
wishing  to  assure  him  of  the  gratitude  of  our  Church  to  him  for  his  long, 
tender,  faithful,  and  affectionate  service  among  us,  and  desiring  him  to 
know  that  we  do  love  him  and  will  always  love  him  for  his  life  and  works 
of  love  and  unselfishness,  hereby  contribute  to  the  window  set  apart  and 
dedicated  to  him  in  aflFectionate  remembrance." 

Affectionately  yours.  Garland  M.  Jones,  Chairman. 

RESOLUTIONS  BY  THE  SUNDAY  SCHOOL 

Resolved  by  the  First  Methodist  Sunday  School,  That  we  to-day  thank 
God  for  the  continued  presence  among  us  of  our  beloved  brother  and 
father  in  Israel,  the  Rev.  William  J.  Cotter;  that  he  has  been  spared  to 
enter  upon  this  new  year  and  the  eighty-sixth  year  of  his  life ;  that  we 
are  grateful  to  God  for  his  continued  usefulness  to  the  Church,  for  his 
beautiful  Christian  life,  and  for  his  unswerving  faith  and  his  holy  life. 

Resolved,  That  we  assure  our  beloved  brother  of  our  unbounded  confi- 
dence, of  our  warmest  love,  and  of  our  high  appreciation  of  his  gentle  and 
loving  ministrations  in  times  of  joy  and  in  hours  of  sorrow. 

The  above  resolutions,  introduced  by  T.  E.  Atkinson,  were,  on  motion 
made  by  J.  J.  Goodrum  and  seconded  by  D.  T.  Manget,  unanimously 
passed  by  a  rising  vote. 

This  January  3,  1909,  at  Newnan,  Georgia. 

W.  G.  Post,  Superintendent; 
J.  T.  Fain,  Secretary. 
190 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 


This  book  is  due  on  the  date  indicated  below,  or  at  the 
expiration  of  a  definite  period  after  the  date  of  borrowing,  as 
provided  by  the  rules  of  the  Library  or  by  special  arrange- 
ment with  the  Librarian  in  charge. 


DATE  BORROWED 

DATE  DUE 

DATE  BORROWED 

DATE  DUE 

' 

C28(i14i)m100 

COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY 


6035521252 


938.6  C82  7 

Cotter 

938.  G  C827 


BRITTLE  DO  NOT 
PHOTOCOPY 


